#she just. does not compute that sometimes. I don’t want a random phone call that lasts 3 HOURS

[lemonlillybee]

Comfortember 2022 Masterlist

Not too bad for “not participating” in @comfortember, eh? These are all AO3 links because I don’t think I posted a lot of them on tumblr

1. Hugs Bat-Ghost Peter has a run in with a villain, and when he wakes up he finds himself in a nightmare 

2. Stressed IronDad Comfortember Shorts Peter procrastinates on homework and he stresses 

3. Warm Food Don’t Drool On Me The door to his lab is closed, and Tony opens it, tossing his shirt, jacket and tie onto the couch and slipping his shoes off before he realizes that it’s far too quiet. He’s surprised to see the lab empty. Peter’s stuff isn’t even down there. Tony opens the fridge and sees that nothing is missing, not even caffeine-free soda he’s stocked in there for Peter’s sugar addiction. He hops back on the elevator and takes it up to the penthouse. The kitchen is also empty and spotless, not a thing missing from the pantry or the refrigerator, and no dishes in the sink. There are no signs of Peter having eaten anything today. 

6. Exhaustion & 23. Pass Out Pass the Sleep Peter is a bit tired 

12. Concern What, Me Worry? Ned Leeds is in the library on campus working on an assignment for his Computation Structures class when he hears a cough coming from the far corner. The library is relatively quiet today, just the usual sounds of students whispering and bustling around, and a random cough wouldn’t even register on a normal day.

The thing is, Ned’s pretty sure it’s not a random cough. Sure, it might be weird that he’s paying attention to someone coughing in the library, but there is something far too familiar about the sound, one that he’s heard since he was in middle school and met Peter Parker. It’s not a sound he hears frequently any more, not since Peter was bitten by a spider and became Spider-Man, but back in middle school when he still had asthma, the sound of Peter coughing became the soundtrack of their winters. Honestly, the fact that Peter is coughing is far more concerning than the fact that Ned knows what Peter’s cough sounds like.

15. A Quiet Moment IronDad Comfortember Shorts Pepper catches Tony and Peter having a quiet moment 

16. Shelter IronDad Comfortember Shorts Peter finds shelter from the rain

17. Falling asleep on someone & 28. Quality Time Sticky Sickie Tony is recovering from an illness in bed, and Pepper wants him to stay in bed, so she calls in reinforcements to make sure he does. Reinforcements being a certain spider-kid, who might also be sick. 

19. Cold Warming Up Peter falls asleep watching water boil

20. Self Care IronDad Comfortember Shorts Peter notices that Tony’s dealing with some extra pain today and takes matters into his own hands

24. Night Time IronDad Comfortember Shorts Peter has nightmares. Tony comforts him.

Alt 2. Frozen Snacks, Stitches & Sleep (& Snuggles & Star Wars & Shelter & Safety & Silence) Peter stops by the Tower for a little assistance

Alt 5. Create the web of our life (is of a mingled yarn) Michelle Jones is a people person. More specifically, she loves to people watch. Sometimes, she types out lists in her Notes app about people she encounters– not that she’s obsessed with people, or anything. She’s just observant.

One night, Spider-Man lands on her fire escape and she gives him a scarf she knitted. After their interaction, she starts a note on her phone about him, too, and she’s starting to notice some pretty interesting things about the superhero who may or may not go to the same high school as her.

#comfortember #comfortember 2022 #hurt/comfort #comfort #fluff #irondad #friends of spiderman #sick peter parker #masterlist #prompt fill

[unknwnxquantity]

My downfall is how I try to keep memories alive. I get scared I’ll forget them forever so I replay random memories from years and years ago to keep it alive in my brain so they don’t go down the abyss —the memory dump— like bing bong from inside out. Like a random Cartoon Network commercial of the scooby doo fruit snacks (or was it a cereal commercial?) from a pre recorded episode of justice league unlimited. Or me being on my sister’s computer in her room (during her teen years/my childhood) whether it was playing the Sims, Disney Magic Artist Studio game, being on iTunes or YouTube, right under her top bunk bed that you had to climb the ladder to get onto and we would sleep together in her bed sometimes bc we were besties. And the metal from the bed would constantly shake as if it would break on you any minute even if you moved an inch. Or when she gave me my first bratz doll that was hers, Cameron, and it started my little journey playing with bratz. Or when I had my hot pink razr flip phone 💁‍♀️ and would watch music on demand and put the phone close to the tv speaker to record the chorus of J Holidays Bed as my ringtone (I was not even double digits bro😭). Or being in this after school program in middle school for that one year and it being some of the best times of my life. Or that one time we got to text Disney channel which Hannah Montana episode we wanted to air before the others (it was out of 3 episodes… or 2? Idk if anyone knows what I’m talking about). Or my three way phone calls (after 8? Or 9pm? So it wouldn’t take from my minutes) I had with my two friends from that middle school at the time late at night and the one always having to hang up and being unreachable by phone half the time lol. Or listening to Alicia keys try sleeping with a broken heart on my sisters old iPod mini she gave me and had her songs still on it, and I sat on the floor heartbroken (like I knew what love was) for my 6th grade crush that had no idea I was obsessed with her😭 but all my friends did bc I’d alwaysss talk about how cute she was. Or my little big planet days being friends with people from the UK and building and playing levels. Or the first time I got my period and I was playing that game and texting that same crush at the time (I think I told her about it). It was summer, and my family and I were going somewhere In New York later that day, and my parents were in a weird period in their divorce where they were still together. Or going to see my cousins in the Bronx when I was younger almost every weekend at one point, with my one guy cousin who’s a year older and I thought he was the coolest person ever and I wanted to be him. Or being on vacation with my fam every year to Orlando til I was 11, and being in the car on the highway to Seaworld (we’d go to universal mostly tho) and Dolphin and Gold by Prince playing and it just feeling magical. We always listened to Prince. Or a random memory after an away softball game? Basketball game? From sophomore year of hs and thinking to myself, staring out the bus window on the ride back to our school, about why I think so deeply and feeling so alone in that and in my thoughts.

I like to keep random memories alive. I actively search for them to keep them in my consciousness and retrieve them like archives. I’m scared of forgetting. I’ve always been like that. Yearning for the past ever since I reached my teens. Escaping my reality. My dads like that too 🤣 But then it’s like… you miss what’s right in front of you right now that is gonna be something you’re nostalgic for in a couple years from now. It’s definitely my biggest setback. I just feel so connected to my past and my roots. My family, old tv shows, old connections, old video games. It’s what keeps me here today. But my life path is about letting go. I hold on with a death grip lol. What does it feel like to live in the present?

#unknwnxquantity

[angelholme]

V, V, V — Day 4 : Book

There is a series called “Melissa and Joey” that has one of the most distressing and offensive scenes I have ever seen in a TV series. And I know you are wondering what that could possibly be, and why it was so distressing and offensive, and why it was “one of the most”.

Was it racist? Was it homophobic? Was it a man abusing a woman in some mean and misogynistic way?

No — it turns out it was none of those things.

Lennox — the niece of the main character Mel — and her boyfriend Haskell had bought a first edition of “The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe” at a garage sale, and now were breaking up so were trying to decide what to do with the book.

But they couldn’t decide what to do with it, so in the end Lennox says she will cut the book in half and they can half of it each. And then she does. She literally makes it look like she cuts not only one of the better books in the world in half, but a first edition of one of the better books in the world in half.

When I first watched this my rational mind realised that there was no way they were going to do this. That the producers had to know that not only would a first edition be worth tens of thousands of pounds (or dollars or whatever) but also the level of blasphemy to do that would be something that would just be…….. unforgivable.

And now I realise I am starting to sound a little…….. psychotic about this.

I am a child of the digital age. Despite the fact I was born in the 70s, and computers — at least computers as we know them now — were not a thing when I was a kid, and tablets, smartphones and so forth were not even a glint in the eye of the mind of the gods, I am most definitely a child of the digital age.

If we had to go back to a world without my computer, without my laptop, without my phone, my tablet and without the internet it would be an utter nightmare. I rarely watch “real television” any more (films via Netflix, Disney+ and Google for the most part) and almost all of my reading is done via Kindle and audiobooks.

However I still think we have a place for books in the world. And that the destruction of books — whether it is because people are trying to hide knowledge, or because they are destroying them for fun, or because they are just wantonly destroying them — is one of the worst crimes imaginable.

Books are a link to the past. While websites can contain the same information, they are far too easy to update, and have very little ability to be audited when they do. (There might be internal auditing but they don’t have to show it to anyone in the outside world).

But books….. when they change you generally tend to know. And you know who has changed it, and when it was changed.

Books are also more……… tangible. Reading “Rilla of Ingleside” on the kindle is all well and good, and listening to an audiobook is also good.

But holding a copy of the book in your hand, turning the pages and reading the printed words is a whole different experience. And reading a copy that was printed, set and bound one hundred and two years ago — during the lifetime of the author…….. it is also quite an experience.

However it’s not just that — as a wise man said some knowledge can be taken and used and thrown away, but sometimes the gaining of knowledge should have importance, it should have gravitas. The getting of knowledge should only be gained from old musty books, not from random websites or digital books — it should be from weighty old tomes that are musty with age. The getting of knowledge should be smelly.

As I said, I wouldn’t go back to a time when we only had books — going down to the library to look stuff up was a nightmare, and not having access to every piece of information in the known universe at my fingertips would just be…….. horrific. Just the idea of doing my job alone without being able to look up how to do it (which I admit sounds like I have no idea how to do my job, but you get my point) makes me not want to do my job at all.

But to live in a world without books? It would be equally horrific. Because books are the lifeblood — the source, the heart-stone — of all knowledge. And if we were to get rid of them, convert them all to digital and to a transient form, then the world would be a much sadder and a much poorer place.

Which is why the idea that someone would cut a first edition of “The Lion, the Witch and The Wardrobe” in half is so horrifying, so obscene and so offensive.

#v v v #may myself and i #day 4 #book #melissa and joey #the lion the witch and the wardrobe #lennox #haskell #giles

[ghoul--doodle]

Having a friend who does not suffer from anxiety is a challenge sometimes

#she just. does not compute that sometimes. I don’t want a random phone call that lasts 3 HOURS #i tell her to text me before she calls and 90% of the time she DOESNT do that #she’ll loop around the same few topics over and over again and not let me get a single word in #she’ll complain about her sister- talk about uni- briefly talk about some movie she watched- repeat #she also does this thing. where she’ll go dead silent for around a minute. and JUST as I’m about to try and leave?? she starts talking again #ma’am I don’t have the energy to deal with this shit i have a limited amount per day #and recently I’ve been reaching the limit(tm) very quickly #as a person with anxiety i have a limited battery- #s a person who is also depressed that battery can be fucked with at the slightest inconvenience #she just. tires me out sometimes she doesn’t seem to compute that I do care but sometimes i just don’t wanna talk because im tired #or that text is genuinely so much easier for me because it takes little energy away from me when i do it #i have time to think of my response and i have an opportunity to put my thoughts in #i love this friend a lot but she’s really tiring sometimes

[miekasa]

mie….could we please get college au eren headcanons👉🏽👈🏽

Of course. I’m always thinking about his big head anyway <33 might as well put it good use.

One thing he learned in college is how to make his hyperfocus/fixation episodes work for him; that’s why he schedules all his classes as close together as possible. He’d rather have class back to back for 5 hours, than have it spread out with hours in between lectures, because that increases his changes of cutting.

You can always tell when he’s in class and/or what class he’s in by how much he responds to your messages. If he doesn’t text back at all, he’s in a class that hard or one he enjoys, or both. But if he’s sending you iMessage games, then you know he’s in his elective that he couldn’t care else about (and is probably cheating in someway somehow lmfao). 

He usually puts his phone on dnd when he’s in a class that’s important, but you’re in his favorite contacts, so your messages always ring through. What if it’s an emergency and you need him for something? Advanced Roots of Human Biology can wait. 

Some days there are one or two our breaks between his lectures, that’s just how the scheduling works out. When that happens, he usually sneaks into one of your lectures, or goes to your place to take a nap. Your roommates have become accustomed to him, honestly they’ve been considering giving him a key. 

Once, he didn’t realize that your lecture was basically a seminar, with you, the prof and maybe six other students. He still stayed lmao, and the prof was so amazed by his dedication, that she didn’t even mind. Occasionally, you’ll catch the two of them talking after lecture. It’s pretty cute the way she’s adopted him into the class even tho he’s not on the roster. 

You... have to show him where the library is lmfao. He genuinely has not stepped foot in one until you bring him to one. He likes it tho lmao once he gets used to it. 

Speaking of which, do not give him standard directions to find your classes on campus because all you’ll get is, “Babe, I’m gonna keep it real with you, I’ve never heard of the ‘West Quad’ a day in my life. What building are you near.”

He usually comes to see you in the library after all his lectures are done for the day. Sometimes he does homework, sometimes he’s just fucking around on his computer, sometimes he’s just bothering you. When you have to leave to go to class, he stays behind to watch your stuff so you don’t have to pack everything up and come back. 

Very protective when it comes to keeping your seat for you. No, you cannot take that chair to your table you good for nothing freshman; it’s reserved for you. 

He’ll drag you out of the library if you’ve been cooped up all day, tho. Eren will use his height and his strength against you to get you up. Placates you with kisses when he sees your angry expression, and promises to buy you food.

He takes your backpack for you when you’re walking together,m. His backpack is frustratingly light all the time, even during midterms. You swear all he’s got in there is a pencil and some flashcards. 

If you have night classes, he sticks around to walk you home after, especially in the winter when it gets dark faster. If he’s not already on campus, he’ll walk/drive back to meet you; he just doesn’t like you going home alone. Even if your friend/roommate is in the class with you, Eren will walk or drive the both of you home for his own sanity. 

He plays sports, so he usually has practice most evenings, but he’ll find a way to make time. If practice was particularly brutal, he’ll probably crash at your place.

He loves it when you come to meet him after practice. His whole face lights up and he waves obnoxiously, before he gathers up his stuff and all but sprints towards you. You get a cold water bottle to the face, or a bit of water splashed on you usually, which he takes immense amusement in. 

He knows it’s not possible for you to make it to all of his games, and usually it doesn’t bother him much; you’ve got your own life, and work to worry about. All he asks is that you wear his jersey, or any item of his sports apparel/merch on game day (he’s partial to hoodies).

By the time junior year rolls around, he’s not all that interested in attending parties that aren’t hosted by your friends; so, unless it’s at Connie, Jean, or Reiner and Bertholdt’s place, Eren will usually decline. Even team parties, he’s not crazy about unless it’s to celebrate a championship or something. He’d much rather celebrate with you. 

He does get excited about hosting parties though, and he and Jean become pretty damn good co-hosts. They don’t throw ragers, and that’s probably why Eren likes it so much. It’s usually your friend group and a couple plus ones, some good music, games, weed, and take-out. 

He’ll buy you coffee whenever you ask for it. The first time, he just orders something plain, not really knowing the difference between anything; but give it two or three tries, and he’ll get it perfect. He becomes so good that he can order you something new/different and you’ll love it. 

That’s kind of the start of his own coffee addiction, and more often than not, when he buys you a cup, he’s on his second or third of the day himself. The flavor has really grown on him, okay. 

He much prefers your apartment, but on occasion, he’ll ask you to come to his. You’ve been studying for so long, a change of environment should do you good, he claims. He’s a fucking liar tho because that’s all Eren Talk for “I do genuinely want you to come over, but my plans are to coerce you out of doing your assignments and doing me instead.”

Lmfao he adds you on Apple Watch Rings just so you can see him close his rings every day and laugh at you. Even if yours get closed by virtue of walking around campus or working out or whatever, his numbers are stupidly high because he fucking has practice at least 4 days of the week. 

Of course when you’re running on a soccer field for 2 hours every day, you close your Move Ring five times, Eren. Leave the rest of us alone. 

He buys you guys matching accessories for your keychains. It’s something pretty cute, and slightly random, but it reminded him of you. It also serves as a reminder to himself to take his fucking keys with him when he leaves his house. 

He sleeps like a fucking rock, so do not let him fall asleep in the library. Waking him up is a mission, and he’s never happy to be woken up. He looks kinda cute tho. 

He schedules dates for you and his friends. Usually by accident, but hear me out. Sometimes he’ll make plans with Armin, then forget that he has class or a test or something; so his solution is to text you, “hey, i forgot min and i were supposed to go some aquarium tomorrow but i have a midterm so here’s the pdf of my ticket, go with him for me, thanks babe love u” then, boop, you and Armin have an aquarium date Friday evening. 

The same thing happens with Mikasa, though, she usually catches the scheduling conflict before Eren does, and invites you out herself. You and Mikasa hang out quite a bit anyway, so it comes to the point where she tells you when she’s gonna hang out with Eren, so you can make yourself free for when he inevitably remember he has a game that day. 

Mikasa is most amazed that you’ve put up with Eren this long lmao. You’ve certainly lessened her Eren & Armin babysitting hours, and for that she’s eternally grateful. Also, she’s just happy to have another close friend. She loves Eren and Armin, but they’re not the most social beings, and she was literally their only friend besides the other for all their childhood PLEASE she’s so happy you’re around. 

It’s Mikasa, however, who babysits you and Eren whenever you both get too drunk. Says you guys are two peas in a pod (affectionate<2)

If you tell Eren something important that happened, like an internship you got, or a good grade in a class, or something, he usually relays that information to his mom pls. He texts her every day, and if she doesn’t ask for an update on you first, he gives her one.

Carla calls you sometimes, too. At least once every few weeks, just to check on you herself. She really likes you for Eren, and is grateful someone is willing to put up with her hotheaded son. 

Eren’s always using your fucking chapstick. Always. You know he has his own, so why he needs to use yours is beyond you. Finds time to make some dumbass comment about how it’s an “indirect kiss” every time he uses it too. Like bro, we’re dating, and have had many direct kisses why are you like this.

He posts on Instagram every few weeks or so, but you’re on his story every few days. Usually, it’s just a video of you minding your business and doing your work while Eren slowly zooms in before making some loud noise to surprise you, all so he can get your reaction on video and laugh at it. He’s annoying. 

He’s a bit of a copycat when it comes to the products you use. He’ll buy the same brand of pens as you (for that matter, all of his school supplies mirror yours because what does he know about the difference between A4 and A5 notebooks?), put a little hand sanitizer on his backpack like yours (and a lotion, too, for good measure), he even copies your Starbucks order until he finds one he likes for himself. It’s one of his love languages <3

If you’re wondering where your eyelash curler went, Eren stole it to try it on himself, hurt himself, vowed to never use it again, went back because he wanted to “do it right and not give up,” liked the results when he didn’t pinch his eyelid, and now it’s his. 

That being said, stop trying to put your Fenty lipgloss on him, it’s never going to happen. Eye makeup, maybe, only if you sit in his lap and he can have his hands on your ass while you do it. 

What he does love is letting you do his skincare. He will set aside dedicated skincare nights, he adores it. Easily one of his favorite things ever. 

You have his wallet. Not because he’s your sugar daddy or anything (although, if you want something, he’d definitely let you use his card to get it; and even if you bought something without asking, he wouldn’t think twice about it), but because he put it in your bag once and never took it out. 

When you tried to give it back, he just shook his head and told you to keep it, “I have my ID in my phone case anyway, and you’re less likely to lose it. Plus I put all my cards on Apple Pay, so I’m good.”

When you do make it to a game of his, he’s all over you when it’s over. Not in a cocky athlete boyfriend kind of way; in a very sleepy boyfriend kind of way. He’s usually got ice on at least one part of his body, and he’s got half his body weight on you as you walk to the car. 

By the time you guys get back to your place, he’s practically sleep walking. The only thing on his mind is taking a hot shower to soothe his muscles, and heading to bed. The aftermath of game days aren’t all that bad though, because even if you didn’t show, you’re always there to kiss him when he’s home and massage his shoulders, and cuddle him to sleep; and that’s his favorite part. 

#anonymous #hes so fucking cute hes my fucking BOYFRIENDDDDDDDDD #eren x reader #aot x reader #eren jaeger x reader #aot imagines #eren fluff #eren smut

[thebookreader12345]

Cuts and Bruises

Pairing: Greg Grainger x reader

Summary: After treating the temporary fill in at Firehouse 51 for a minor injury, Y/n gets the feeling that she'll be seeing Greg a lot more often

Requested: Yes, by anonymous

Warnings: mentions of a fire and minor injuries

Word Count: 1,423 Words

"Hey, Maggie," I greet the charge nurse. "Where are all of these people coming in from?"

"51 just responded to a huge complex fire," Maggie responded. "It's mostly minor burns, cuts, and a few bruises. Just take a patient chart, fix them up, and send them on their way. I want this ED cleared by 3."

"Got it," I say. "Thank you." So, I picked a patient at random and started doing whatever I could to help. After I had treated a few people, I went to the waiting room to grab the next person in line, but just before I could, Sylvie walked in with a firefighter at her side. “Hey, Sylvie. What’s up?”

“Grainger has a cut on his upper arm, and he insists that he’s fine, but it’s pretty deep. I think it might need stitches,” Sylvie put in.

“I’m fine. Seriously,” the firefighter insisted. “It’s just a scratch.”

“I’ll have Y/n be the judge of that,” Sylvie spoke. “Can you check over him? Please?”

“Of course,” I answer. “Follow me.” I led Grainger to the nearest empty bed and had him sit down while I pulled on some gloves. "So, Grainger-"

"It's Greg," Grainger interrupted. "Greg Grainger."

"Y/n L/n," I return, "So, Greg, are you new to 51? I don't think I've ever seen you around before."

"I'm just a temporary fill in as Engine 51's Lieutenant while Herrmann is on vacation," Greg told me. "And I work at Firehouse 40. All of the people we help on calls go to Lakeshore."

"Then it makes sense why we've never met. There's no opportunity for us to cross paths," I claim. "Now, lets see that arm. If you could ditch your coat, that'd be great." Greg took off his coat and laid it down behind him, but the wound was so far up his arm, his sleeve was covering it. "I uh, I'm gonna need you to take your shirt off too."

Greg didn't even flinch and pulled the shirt over his head, setting it down on top of his other gear. My cheeks heated up at the sight of Greg's toned chest and abs, and so I put all of my focus on the cut on his shoulder.

"So? What do you think?" Greg implored.

"W-what?" I stammer out, my face flushing even more.

"Of the cut," Greg stated. "What do you think? Does it need stitches?"

"Right," I murmur. "Yeah, I'd say so. But just a few. I can get you out of here in 10 minutes. Just sit tight." I was true to my word. 10 minutes later, I had finished up the last stitch on Greg's arm and was just putting a bandage over it.

"Thank you for this," Greg said and hopped off the bed, grabbing his gear from behind him.

"It was no problem," I assure him as he began putting his shirt back on. "Now, I don't know if you've had stitches before, but you've got to keep that wound dry for the first 24 hours, and also try not to overuse that arm. We don't want your stitches to rip."

"Got it," Greg confirmed. "Thanks again, Y/n."

"Like I said before, it was no problem," I repeat. "I uh, I hope I get to see you sometime in the future."

Greg smiled. "I have no doubts that you will. Bye, Y/n."

"Bye, Greg," I wave after him as he left the ED. Throwing off my gloves, I exited the treatment room to get to the nurses station, and I just so happened to bump into Will.

"Who was that?" Will asked and followed Greg out of the door with his eyes.

"A temporary Lieutenant for Firehouse 51," I reply and type away at the computer in front of me.

"Mmm," Will hummed. "You've got the hots for him, don't you?"

"What? Will, I just met him 15 minutes ago," I try and reason.

"But you do find him attractive," Will pointed out. "I can see it on your face."

"You cannot," I retort.

"So it is true? You find him hot. You know, I could see you and him being a cute couple," Will confessed.

"All right, I'm done here. Unlike you, I've got patients to work on," I attest to.

"This isn't over!" Will called out playfully as I walked away.

"Yeah it is!" I shout back.

..........................................

It had been one week since I met Greg Grainger for the first time. And whenever I wasn't busy with work or my social life, my mind wandered to him. Seeing him shirtless on our first encounter, the sincerity in his voice whenever he talked, the smile he sent my way when he left the ED....lets just say he impacted me in a way I never new someone could after spending just 15 minutes together.

"Whatcha thinking about?" Maggie questioned as she joined me by the nurses' station.

"Nothing important," I lie. "Just about what I want for dinner after shift."

"Uh-huh," Maggie muttered. "You're thinking about Grainger, aren't you?"

"Ugh," I groan. "Not you too. Did Will put you up to this?"

"He may have mentioned something," Maggie revealed.

"Oh my...." I trailed off. "I've only met the man once!"

"Twice," Maggie corrected me.

I frowned. "What?"

"He's standing out in the lobby," Maggie informed me. I turned around, and when I looked towards the lobby, I saw that Greg was indeed standing out there. For a second, our eyes met, and then he started walking towards me. To keep Maggie out of my business, I took a couple dozen steps forwards to meet up with him.

"Hey, Greg. What are you doing here?" I quiz. "Don't tell me your stitches ripped."

Greg laughed. "Surprisingly, no. They are still in place. I uh, I actually came to see you."

"You're still in your gear," I notice. "Did you come over here in the middle of your shift?"

"Yes," Greg responded. "But that's not the point. I came over here because for the past week, whenever I'm not focused on something, I think about you, which is weird because we only met once and it was for 15 minutes. But everyone at Firehouse 51 has told me what an amazing person you are, and that only pushed me to come here more. I guess what I'm trying to get at is that I'd like to take you out on a date."

"A d-date?" I stutter.

Greg nodded. "Yeah. Unless you're not interested or you're seeing somebody. If that's the case, forget about it."

"No. That's uh, that's not the case at all. I'd love to go on a date with you," I admit.

"Good. Great," Greg clarified, a slight blush rising to his cheeks. "Well then I will contact you later with the details."

"Greg wait," I interject, and reach forward, my hand grasping onto his forearm.

"What's up?" Greg asked. Instead of answering, I took my small memo book out of my pocket, scribbled something down on it, and then ripped the paper away, folding it neatly before stuffing it into his hand. Greg unfolded the piece of paper and stared down at it, his eyes glancing over my handwriting. "Your phone number?"

"Yeah. You need some way to contact me. How else were we supposed to talk about our date? Because as much as I love meeting up here at Med when we're both supposed to be working, the two of us could be fired for that," I joke.

"Right. Thank you," Greg spoke and sent a smile my way. "I'll be in touch soon." As soon as Greg walked off, I smiled to myself and turned around to head back into the ED. By the nurses' station, both Maggie and Will were waiting, desperate to hear the news.

"Well? What happened?" Maggie pushed.

"I just got asked on a date," I say.

"Told ya you liked him," Will exclaimed.

"So, what are you two gonna do? Tell us everything," Maggie requested.

"As much as I would love that, I've got work," I disclose.

"Work? You don't have any patients right now," Will declared.

"What? I'm sorry. I think I hear Dr. Abrams calling for me upstairs," I share and walk towards the elevator.

"Come on!" Maggie whined. "You can't just leave us hanging like that."

"I can, and I think I just did. See you guys later," I chirp and step into the elevator, the doors closing seconds later, leaving Maggie and Will frustrated in the middle of the ED.

__________________________

Tag List:

@prettypyschoinpink @securityfriendly-jay @scarletsoldierrr @lorenakaspersen @virtualreader @carnationworld @caitsymichelle13 @ncostin2001 @evangeline91 @just-arather-veryconfused-being @generalfarmmuffinagle @kaitlyn-marie-a @shywritermoon @jbbarnes212 @multifandom-loser

#one chicago #one chicago x reader #one chicago imagines #one chicago imagine #chicago fire #chicago fire x reader #chicago fire imagine #chicago fire imagines #greg grainger #greg grainger x reader #x reader #imagines #imagine

[lunaekalenda]

Hi! Can I please request headcanons or one-shot with modern Jean who wants attention from their female s/o but she likes to tease him a bit and pretends that she is busy? But both of them know that she is craving his attention as much as he does, so they end up cuddling or doing something fluffy and cute together 😭 I hope it's okay and you are having a good day, thank you lovely 🥰❣️

omg ofc! i hope you like it! :D

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

jean x fem!reader, modern au, in this universe jean is french :D

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

- Jean is a boyfriend that really likes attention.

- He likes to be kissed and hugged and caressed and called by you

- You like to tease him about that, and the way he acts always makes you smile.

···· ···· ···· ···· ···· ···· ···· ···· ···· ···· ···· ···· ···· ···· ···· ···· ···· ···· ···· ···· ···· ···· ···· ···· 

Jean is lying on your shared bed, behind the chair where you’re sitting, on your desk. He sighs.

“Babe.” he calls. You turn around a little, looking at him. He has one of your plushies - a gift he bought you - between his big hands, playing with it. “Come here, please.” he asks. You turn again to face your computer. You know exactly what he wants.

“Why?”

“I want to hug you.” he says. That’s actually really sweet, you feel butterflies flying in your body. He smiles at you when you turn around again. You’re dying to hug him, but you want to tease him a little more. You sit again. 

“I’m occupied, Jean.” he sighs, looking at your bear plushie. You can see him on your little makeup mirror, in a side of your desk. He sighs again.

“How long will you work? Can I help you?” you laugh.

“You just want to help me to have me there sooner, don’t you?” he pouts a little and takes the bear near his face. You can hear him talking to the plushie.

“She knows me too well, mate.” he says. You want to laugh, he looks so childish craving your attention that way, talking to the teddy bear because he can’t wait to have you there with him. You understand him. You also want to be there, between his strong arms. To rest your head on his chest and feel his hands up and down your spine. 

You get up lazily, stretching your arms above your head. He looks at you, and you shut your laptop and turn off the desk light, getting up. You walk towards the bed. He is still with your plushie on his hands, and you raise a brow while you take off your slippers. “Are you going to keep hugging him instead of your girlfriend? I thought you wanted me to be here...” He puts the bear away while he opens his arms, waiting for your body. Once you lay between them, he hugs you. Tight and strong, you smell your boyfriend’s cologne on his neck while a silly smile starts to appear on your lips. He kisses you hair quietly.

“You weren’t occupied, right?” he says. 

“I was reading my fave fic’s new chapter.” you say, making him laugh and look at your eyes.

“And I was thinking you were reading something for work...” well, that was your intention at first. But you remembered the deadline of that work, so the fic notification popped up and you needed to read it. “You liar.” he says. You laugh and he does the same. It’s almost night, and you feel so good there, spending time between your boyfriend’s arms, with no more sounds than his breath and yours, feeling his warmth on your skin and his random kisses on your head. He receives a call, and, taking out his phone, he apologizes to you. “It’s mum. I should answer. Be right back, hm?” you nod and he leaves with a last kiss. You can hear his french “allô?” before he leaves the room. You stay in bed, listening his giggles and his “maman” from the bed. He comes back quickly, occupying his place behind you. You sigh when you feel his body against yours again.

“How’s your mom?” you ask. 

“She’s fine. She just told me that she found my old painting set. She was asking if I wanted to take it here.” You asked him what he said. “I don’t paint since we moved together. I don’t want to mess the apartment.” he says, You want to kick him.

“Jean! You love painting! Take that thing here and paint.” He smiles. You can’t see him, but you feel his smile when he talks. 

“Okay. I’ll message her later about it.” Silence comes fast again to the room. You turn around to face him. 

“You promised me to talk in french.” Jean’s cheeks blush. When did he said that? 

Easy, the first time you caught him talking french with his mom, and he told you he would talk to you in french once you two have been a couple for long. Jean clears his throat.

“And what do you want me to say?” you smile, the win is yours. You think. Finally, you decide to let him think about something. He agreed. His brain searches something to say, something that sound beautiful but not cheesy, He buries his face on your hair, taking you closer to his chest, before talking. You can feel how fast his heart beats while he talks. “tu es mon soleil”

You feel your heart beating as fast as his. The silence comes back again. You know he has said something beautiful to you, and you don’t know exactly how to thank him. You don’t find the specific words. But, having another way to make him know how much he means for you, words are sometimes not the most important thing. You crawl over his body, his blushed cheeks receiving you once you get to his face. 

His smile is the last thing you see before closing your eyes and colliding your lips with his.

#aot x reader #aot #aot fluff #aot fic #aot fanfiction #aot scenario #snk #snk x reader #snk fluff #snk headcanons #snk fic #jean x reader #jean kirschstein #jean kirstein #jean kirschtien #jean x you #jean x y/n #jean x female reader #jean aot #jean attack on titan #jean shingeki #jean shingeki no kyojin #jean snk

[avengerscompound]

Small Gods: Patience - 1

Patience:  A Black Widow Fanfic

Patience Masterlist | More Small Gods

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing:  Natasha Romanoff x F!Reader

Rating: E

Word Count:  1611

Warnings: Language, guns, (smut, angst, and canon typical violence on series)

Synopsis: Every day Natasha prays for more patience to deal with a litany of things from waiting for her target to make a move - to not yelling at Clint for putting empty milk containers back in the fridge.

When her prayers are answered, Natasha finds that having patience is easy, holding on to it is a little harder.

A/N: Reader is a minor god.

IF YOU WISH TO BE TAGGED IN THE REMAINDER OF THIS SERIES, EITHER ADD YOURSELF TO THE TAGLIST OR SEND ME A MESSAGE

Chapter 1

Natasha stood on the edge of the building watching the chaos break out below her.  The team was supposed to be infiltrating a new underground crime group to figure out where a drop-off was happening.  They’d had men on a street corner no one had managed to clock, and it had just happened to be the one Steve was observing, and they’d spotted him.  That had made the whole crew antsy and then they’d wanted to change locations for the meet.  That had meant a sudden scramble to relocate everyone, so they could keep monitoring the situation.  Tony had nearly been spotted as they did and ended up having to leave the area completely so it looked like another normal New York City Iron Man sighting.  To top that off, Sharon’s comms had just stopped working completely and so no one had any idea what the group was actually saying.  It had been a series of fuck-ups and she knew she would have to get down into the mess soon the way things were going, but she was waiting to see if Clint could salvage it as he bumbled along the street acting stupid so that he could ‘accidentally bumped into his old friends Sharon’ and get some ears back on the scene.

“God, grant me patience,” she sighed.  It was a prayer that had become commonplace for her.  She’d use it when she was on an undercover mission where she had to pretend to be much less intelligent than she was.  She used it when she helped patch up Clint’s cuts after he’d spent a whole day being incredibly agile and dexterous, only to trip over his doormat and land face-first into a cactus he didn’t even know he owned.  She used it when Tony went on one of his rambling stories that she already knew.  She used it when she had to watch Steve jump off yet another stupidly high point for no reason other than he had to be their first.

“I’m not sure, Natalia,” a voice coming from way too closer said.  “I’m not sure that’s what you actually want.”

She spun around, quickly assuming a defensive position.  You stood at the corner of the building, completely relaxed.  You had dark sunglasses on and what looked like a faux leather jacket and large black boots.  You were leaning against the wall slightly and twirling a lollipop in your mouth, and despite the fact that on just about anyone else she’d think they were trying too hard, you seemed effortlessly cool.

“Who are you?”  Natasha snarled.

“Patience,” you said simply.

“Don’t tell me to be patient when you’ve just snuck up on me in the middle of a mission.  Tell me what you want, or I’ll send that piece of candy through the back of your throat.”

You laughed and held up your hands. “Okay, killer,” you teased.  “Relax.  I wasn’t telling you what to do.  I was saying that’s who I am.”

Natasha quirked her eyebrow at you.  “So your name is Patience, and you sit around waiting for people to pray for patience and you pop out thinking it’s a funny joke?  You know how close to death you just came right now?  I’m in the middle of something.  Go away before you get someone hurt.”

Natasha spun back to look down at Sharon who was now talking to Clint.  She saw the quick sleight of hand as they exchanged mic packs.

“Patience isn’t my name,” you laughed.

Natasha rolled her eyes, hoping to cling on to the last remaining patience she had rather than breaking your neck. That would just lead to a lot of paperwork.  “You said it was.”

“No,” you said, straightening up and reaching into your inner jacket pocket.

Natasha pulled her gun and pointed at you.  “Don’t even think about it.”

You pulled your hand out with a business card pinched between your thumb and index finger.  You raised your hands and flicked the card up so it was held between your index and middle finger.  “I said I was patience,” you said, taking a few steps toward her.  Natasha’s fingers twitched on the trigger finger as she tried to read your intention.  “You’ve been praying to me a lot lately.  I thought I’d show up.  But - you’re obviously not ready yet.”  You offered the card to Natasha and she took it without taking her eyes off you.  “Now… count to two hundred, and then go down the fire escape.  Agent Carter will be fine until then, and that will get you there exactly when you need to be.”

“What?”  Natasha asked, now completely confused.

“Just a suggestion,” you answered and casually strode off to the stairwell, leaving Natasha alone on the roof, completely perplexed over what had just happened.  She looked down at the business card.  Embossed in gold on the glossy black card were your name, address, and phone number.  There was no mention of a job or business or even the word patience that you had kept bringing up.

Natasha furrowed her brow and tucked the card into her pocket.  She wasn’t a trusting person by nature, but she had enough experience with magic to know not to completely ignore what you said.  She counted to two hundred as she paid close attention to what was happening in the street.  As she carefully made her way down to the fire escape, there was a commotion and Sharon drew her gun.  People scattered as a large van pulled up and armed men spilled out.

Natasha cursed under her breath as the street broke out in utter chaos.

“How did you even get there so fast?”  Sharon asked.

Thanks to your warning, Natasha had gotten there at the perfect time to take out most of the gunmen before they’d even shouldered their weapons.  In the end, while the plan hadn’t exactly gone how everyone had wanted it, and they still needed to actually find where they were operating from, they had made a lot of arrests, and thanks to Natasha, lots of innocent lives had been saved from being caught in the crossfire.

“There was this woman…”  Natasha started, not quite sure how to explain your strange appearance and departure from the rooftop.

“Oohhh…” Clint teased.  “Nat got the hots for some hot Chiquita.”

“Gross, Clint,” Natasha snarked.  “Don’t be a letch.”  Clint held up his hands in surrender and Natasha let out a long breath.  “It was weird though.”

“How was it weird?”  Steve said, sitting forward in his chair.  “Anything we need to worry about?”

Natasha shrugged.  “I don’t know - maybe,” she said.  “She said she was patience.”

Clint snorted.  “You definitely need to find her then,” he teased. Natasha swatted him on the back of the head.  “See,” he complained, rubbing his head.

“So her name was Patience?”  Steve said, opening up a drop-down screen above the coffee table.  “FRIDAY, do we have any record of a Patience as a member of any known criminal organizations.”

“Her name wasn’t Patience,” Natasha said, pulling the card out of her pocket and handing it to Steve.  “She said she was patience.”

“What does that mean?”  Steve asked, typing the details into the computer.

Natasha shrugged.  “Your guess is as good as mine.”

Tony chuckled.  “I like the idea of anthropomorphic adjectives walking around.”

“Patience is a noun, Tony,” Bruce scolded.  “And so is Tony.”

“You know what I mean,” Tony said, waving his hands around.  “You can feel patient, you can’t feel Tony.”  He paused for a moment.  “Not unless you asked nicely.”

“Maybe she’s some kind of god,” Clint said.  Everyone turned to him and Natasha raised her eyebrow.  Sometimes Clint would say things that were so simple and so profoundly intelligent that she wasn’t sure if he just blindly stumbled into the answer or he was an actual genius.

“Is that a thing?”  Sam asked.  “Just random gods of emotions?”

Natasha shrugged.  “I have no idea.  It’s a pity Thor isn’t here, we could ask him.  But she did say I’d been praying to her.”

Clint snorted.  “Sounds about right.”

“But Thor’s not a real god, is he?”  Steve said.  “Wasn’t the theory that he’s just an alien that lives a long time and humans just decided he was a god?”

“The dude makes lightning, Cap,” Sam teased.  “Maybe he’s not the only place it comes from, but he can definitely create it and control it.  Why can’t there be the equivalent for something like patience.”

Clint snatched the card from Steve and shoved it into Natasha’s hands.  “I say you call her.”

“You just want Nat to stop smacking you on the back of the head,” Bucky snorted.

“No, I want to see my best friend get laid,” Clint said, folding his arms across his broad chest.  “I bet someone who can command patience would be great at sex.”

“And…?”  Bucky pressed.

“And I don’t want to get clocked on the back of the head anymore,” Clint muttered.

Everyone laughed and Natasha looked down at the card, spinning it around in her hand.

“You look like you’re considering it, Red,” Tony mused.  “What was she like?”

“Cryptic,” Natasha replied.  “Cool.”

“Was she hot?”  Clint asked.

“I think so,” Natasha said.

“So call her,” Sharon shrugged.  “She helped me out.  She can’t be all that bad.”

Natasha nodded.  “At the very least I might get some answers.”

“And who knows, Nat,” Clint said.  “Maybe she’ll be able to teach you a trick or two.”

Natasha bit the inside of her cheek trying not to laugh, and wishing she had a little bit of that patience right now.

// NEXT

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow #black widow fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #reader insert #small gods #patience

[mari-rosa-skiess]

Welcome back 🥺 Can we get some hc’s or a cute scenario yuri p x fem reader on skype since he’s away and they fall asleep together on the call?? Thank you! I love your writing so much 🥺

yes omg i love this idea ! this one took extra long because of my 70 hiatuses, but i’m doing it now! hope you enjoy if you’re still out there, anon!

-mari<3

Navigation

Warnings: None, just some swearing 

Pronouns: she/her

Words: 800+

-

You and Yuri have been together for a long time now, a year and three months to be exact, but a lot of the relationship is long-distance due to his constant traveling. You love each other anyway, so the relationship works even though being so far away from each other can suck.

You don’t really hear from Yuri throughout the day, except for a few texts, due to him being busy from 5:30 am to around 9:45 pm, but even after he gets back to his hotel, he has to eat and get ready for bed before he can skype you.

Despite all of the scheduling, you make it work and you do call almost every night. 

You’re the only person Yuri genuinely enjoys talking to, so he makes sure he has time to talk to you every night. If he for some reason can’t talk to you one night, he gets really mad at himself and apologizes for like a week straight even though you assure him it’s not his fault and it’s okay.

He’s always tired when you guys call, so it’s not a rare occasion for him to fall asleep on the phone after about two hours of talking. He does try his hardest to stay up and talk to you though.

It was around 10:30 pm, which means Yuri was going to be calling you soon. You were finishing up some homework for school that’s due the next day while you waited for the skype notification to pop up on your computer.

Around five minutes later, you got the notification and a smile immediately appeared on your face as you clicked on it.

When you answered, Yuri softly smiled at you.

His hair was messy and still half wet, and he was in a hoodie.

“How was practice today?” you asked him with a smile.

“Fine, Viktor is really fucking annoying sometimes though,” he rolled his eyes.

You let out a soft giggle.

“I’m sure he just wants to see you succeed, love,” you smiled.

“I mean, yeah, I am the best skater in the world,” he cockily smirked.

“Yes, I know, you remind me every night,” you playfully rolled your eyes with a smile.

“What have you been up to?” he asked you, moving a strand of his platinum blond hair out of his face.

“Schoolwork, there’s so much of it,” you sighed, running your fingers through your hair.

School has certainly gotten harder. You are a freshman, so the word took a big jump from hard, to really difficult.

“You have seemed pretty stressed out lately, I wish I could be there with you,” he frowned.

“It’s fine, talking to you every day at night is more than enough,” you smiled, not wanting him to think it’s his fault for the long-distance relationship.

“Besides, it’s been your dream since forever to make it as far as you have, you’re literally one of the best skaters in the world and you’re still in your teens, Yuri,” you reminded him with a comforting smile.

“I know, but I just wish I could see you more, you’re the only one who doesn’t make me want to rip out my eyes and skate over them with freshly sharpened blades,”

You giggled at his sweet, yet specific and kind of gruesome statement.

“I’ll see if I can fly out in a week or two, I’m sure my (parental figure) will let me,” you spoke.

“I hope so,” he smiled, but it was a saddened smile.

“Don’t worry, you’ll be back in a few more months, it’s better than a year, isn’t it?” you asked, laying back in your bed and setting your laptop on your nightstand, but with your camera still facing your face.

Yuri was already laying in that same position due to him being tired.

“Yeah, I just wish you could come along with me when I have to go to different countries, I really wish we weren’t teenagers,” he frowned.

“Maybe one day I’ll be able to travel with you, I really hope so at least,” you smiled.

He smiled back at you, yawning a few seconds after.

“Do you want to go to sleep? I don’t want to keep you up,” you asked him, clearly seeing that he’s tired.

“No, I want to talk to you,” he spoke.

“Alright then,” you sighed.

You two went on to talk about things for the next hour and a half. Ranging from school to his skating, to just random shit. Soon enough, you both were extremely tired.

You felt your eyes weighing down, you were struggling to stay awake, so you eventually just let sleep engulf you.

The same thing was going on with your blond boyfriend.

“I love you, (Y/N),” he yawned.

“I love you too,” you mumbled before drifting off to sleep.

#yuri plisetsky #yuri plisetsky x reader #yuri plisetsky x femreader #yuri plisetsky imagine #yuri!!!! on ice

[joheun-saram]

“Is your refrigerator running?” (jjk)

Summary- Who knew the annoying prank calls you were receiving would become the favourite part of your day.

word count- 4.2k

pairing- fratboy!Jungkook x Reader

rating- PG-13

genre- fluff, collegeau

warnings- none! just stupid jokes.

a.n- Part of my drabbles for @btsholidaybingo​, ticking off the Prank Calls tile! I’ll be posting these every week or so as I get them done. Check out the other drabbles here :)

s/o to the beautiful @heyitsmeee2​ for beta reading and helping me fix the ending! 💕

As always feedback appreciated. Send me an ask! 💌

-

“So how’s your new boyfriend?” Namjoon asked you as you chewed on your fries, almost choking at his insinuition. He laughs at you as he takes a sip of his milkshake, slurping obnoxiously, his eyes widening as he concentrates on the flavour.

“Stop! He’s just a random guy with too much time on his hands! I don’t even know his name! Although...” You stared at your burger, trying to forget what your roommate was alluding to. Two months ago you had started getting phone calls from a stranger. It wasn't something from a horror movie, don't worry. It was harmless. He would call you at random times in the day to ask you silly questions. You don’t know how he even got your number but there was something about his easy going nature and lame jokes that made you want to continue talking to him. Namjoon suspected it was a byproduct of your loneliness, but it was comforting hearing his voice to break through your mundane day to day. 

"Hi, is this Y/N?" A deep voice spoke as you picked up the call from an unknown number.

"Yes this is she. Who is this?" You asked as you sat up straighter, your attention diverting from the paper you were writing. You had applied to eight jobs for after graduation and you were sure this was a call for an interview, even though it was 10 pm. Your eyes lit up as you hoped this was the big consulting firm you were waiting to hear from.

"I have a very important question that I was hoping you could help me with."

"Um.. sure go ahead." You fiddled with your pen, scribbling random shapes on your notebook, feeling somewhat nervous. Is this how employers usually talked? Did they do this to build anticipation?

"Is your refrigerator running?"

"I'm sorry what?"

"Is your refrigerator running?" 

"Are you calling on behalf of the landlord?" Your voice was flat with disappointment. Surely, this was not an important question. Oh how you wished it was an interview call. You sighed.

"Please answer my question."

"Yes. It's running."

"Then you better go catch it, shouldn't you?"

And with that he hung up and you were baffled. Which decade was this dude from? Who does these lame prank calls anyway and more importantly why does your caller ID not show who it is? Thinking nothing of it, you go about finishing your assignment, albeit slightly aggravated. However, the calls continue. Everyday this stranger would call you with questions, sometimes with a silly punchline but oftentimes even sillier riddles.

"Okay, dude seriously. This is getting annoying." You huffed after a week and a half of receiving calls from the same deep voiced stranger, although you’d be lying if you said his little laugh after he told his jokes was not endearing.

"I'm sorry I didn't mean to annoy you." He seemed hurt and you couldn’t fathom why he would be hurt over a comment a stranger made over his prank calls. In fact, you were sure this was some hobby of his and he had a rotation of strangers to bother.

"Can you at least tell me your name?" You don’t know why you were indulging him, but you had to give him props for constantly calling you. It was kind of becoming part of your daily routine.

"Dixie. My name's Dixie." You could hear the mirth in his tone.

"Dixie? Oh I thought you were a dude, my bad."

"I can be a dude and still have Dixie as my name. Jeez, are you a bigot?" He scolded.

"Sorry, sorry! I didn't mean it that way, Dixie."

"That's Dixie Normus to you." He laughed at his joke, every syllable of his laugh separated as if he was a cartoon character.

"Oh my god. You're the worst!" Regardless of your words, you were laughing. Laughing hard enough to have the banana milk you were drinking to snort out of your nose, making you cough. For a moment, you were glad this stranger wasn't in the room.

"Sorry! Are you okay?" You could hear the humour in his words, shading them in anything but an apology.

And so it went, your mysterious caller, who refused to go by anything other than Dixie turned into a somewhat friend, if you can even call someone who you know no personal details about your friend. After a month the phone calls had turned from cringe worthy puns to actual conversations about your day. You had started to look forward to the unknown flashing on your screen, and sharing the mundane details of your day with Dixie.

In two months you learned a lot more about Dixie. He went to your university, he was an avid gamer, he majored in computer science, and apparently it was now part of his daily routine to call you whenever he was cooling down from his workout on the treadmill - explaining the creepy breathlessness of his voice and beeps in the background. Sometimes you had half a mind to go to the university gym during your calls and see your mysterious friend, but somehow you never found the courage. It was nice not knowing what Dixie looked like, not judging someone by their looks but just by the content of their words. There was no room for disappointment.

It also oddly comforted you that you would never meet him and during your nightly conversations you would end up sharing thoughts that you’d be too uncomfortable sharing with even your best friends. Thoughts about the uncertainty you had over graduating soon, thoughts about being sad over failed relationships, even thoughts about your random existential crisis that would plague you mid week. Dixie was empathetic and had a knack for comforting you with small jokes and his own struggles. You would never admit it to Namjoon, but Dixie was slowly becoming your closest friend, even surpassing him to a certain extent.

"You're insane you know that?" Namjoon chided as you talked about Dixie and how you considered him a friend now. Even though Namjoon was your best friend since first grade, he sometimes didn't understand why you romanticised daily events so much. He never understood why you kept giving Dixie the benefit of the doubt, why you kept picking up his phone calls even when you knew it was going to be a lame joke or two.

"I'm not insane Joon! Haven't you heard of pen pals? This is the same thing but with voice."

"Nah. I think it's your crippling loneliness. Which is why we're going to Jin's frat party tonight." Namjoon was not having any of your excuses. So what if your last relationship was a year ago. You and Yoongi were great together. He was the perfect boyfriend and after he went to LA to pursue his music career, you told him you'd wait. Turns out he wasn't on the same page as you since six months after moving, he called you to break things off. He was right though, it would have been stupid to wait for him when neither of you knew when and even if he was ever coming back. It was unfair to the both of you to keep dragging this thing along. But even if Yoongi hadn't been around the last year and a half, you just couldn't see yourself with anyone else. You still missed talking to him every night and sharing your day, laughing at stupid videos together or just listening to him playing the piano through the static line of your phone. Maybe Namjoon was right. Maybe you were lonely and the only reason you were so attached to Dixie was because of the way his phone calls had replaced Yoongi's and how you no longer waited at the end of your day staring at your phone waiting for your ex's call but instead you received real actual calls from your voice pen pal.

You sighed agreeing with Namjoon and went home, not exactly looking forward to the party and missing Dixie’s call.

------------------------

Jin's frat was notorious for the wildest parties on campus. It was always a cacophony of drunk students and a pit of hedonism. When Namjoon and you arrived, the party was in full swing and you thanked your best friend for having the foresight of pre-drinking. The bottle of grapefruit soju you had emptied earlier at your shared apartment ensured that you were not put off by the plethora of drunk guys trying to hit on you microseconds after you entered.

Looking for Jin and let's be honest, a little gin as well, you and Namjoon made your way to the kitchen, to be greeted by your tall friend doing a keg stand. Beer dripped down his chin as his fraternity brothers held him up, his feet almost touching the ceiling. As you poured yourself a gin and tonic, Jin climbed down from the keg to a chorus of applause. Much to your chagrin, he walked over, draping his arms around your shoulders and plastering your back with his beer soaked chest.

"Ew get off me you vermin!" You squealed, shivering in the gross feeling, your backless top doing nothing to shield you from your friend’s shirt as he refused to budge.

"Vermin? VERMIN?! I invite you to my house, give you free drinks, and an array of decent dicks to pick from and I'm the vermin?" Jin finally detaches, giving you a scowl as he leans against the kitchen island, pouring himself what you gather is his tenth drink of the night.

"Jin all of these guys are as gross as you. And I've told you I don't need to get laid!"

"Sure tell that to your vibrator working overtime."

"How did you even - " you sputered, eyes wide with disbelief.

"Namjoon, obviously. And before you kill him, there are no secrets between friends and part-time lovers." He winked, making you roll your eyes. Namjoon and Jin had been on and off since the beginning of freshmen year, neither the type for commitment but to your dismay loved to tell you all about their rollercoaster of a relationship. You swear you could write a thesis on dysfunctional relationships using theirs as a case study.

"Ew. Please stop. I don't need to know about you and Joon getting it on."

"Well then let me introduce you to someone so you can get it on." He wiggled his eyebrows puckering his lips to annoy you. 

"I know all your brothers Jin and no thank you." You lightly slapped his lips making him groan as he grabbed your wrist continuing his tirade. You’d be lying if you said his frat brothers had never caught your eye - they were famous for their astoundingly good looks, in fact there even seemed to be an instagram page dedicated to people randomly spotting them on campus (@betatauinthewild). However, their good looks did not make up for the fact that they were a bunch of loud fuckboys. You loved Jin and Namjoon and would literally stab anyone who said anything against them but you had to agree that they were the biggest players of the group, finding a new person to bed almost every weekend. That is, unless they were with each other - case and point their dysfunctional relationship.

"Well we have a new brother and he's my little brother. He's a sophomore, he just joined, and he's your type. The whole quiet but nice guy type." Jin continued, ignoring you in typical fashion.

"I don't have a type."

"Please! As if Yoongi wasn’t a cookie cutter tsundere. Come on let me introduce you to him!" He grabbed your shoulder and pleaded, pouting and widening his eyes in the most adorable puppy dog face you had seen him pull.

"Can we not talk about Yoongi please." You sighed. You finished your drink and proceeded to pour another one. 

"Yes! Let's talk about JK!"

"Jin... come on. Let's just drink okay?"

"Fine but I'm telling you, you'll get along. He's a great guy."

An hour into the party, you had lost both Jin and Namjoon and were getting tired of Jin’s exceedingly drunk frat brothers trying their pick up lines of the day on you. Your head was hurting from the noise of the party and you were sure if you saw another couple subtly trying to test their exhibitionism kink you were going to puke. So as it was typical for whenever you went to these parties, you started to make your way to Jin’s room. Jin may be loud and obnoxious and being lusted after by pretty much the entire campus, but he was reliable for one thing: he never fucked where he slept. And so his room became a sort of sanctuary for you when these parties would get too much.

You made your way up the stairs almost tripping over two guys who had decided that making out horizontally on the stairs was a good idea - you did not envy how busted their backs would be tomorrow. Punching in the code you walked in to find that there was already someone there, reclined on the bed with his arms behind his head, earphones in, humming gently as he stared at the ceiling. You had never seen him before, but boy did you wish you did. His dark hair was splayed over the pillows, a smile ghosting his full lips. He was dressed in all black, much like you but unlike your lace bodysuit and skinny jeans, he was wearing a boxy back t shirt with ripped jeans, his feet in those questionable toe socks. And he was buff, even though his body was mostly covered you could make out the muscle in his arms, one of which had intricate tattoos etched on to. You’re unaware how long you stared at this stranger, but suddenly he turns his face looking at you. Seeing you there he immediately jumps up, pulling his earphones out, startling you in turn.

“I- I’m sorry. Y-you can’t be h-here,” he stutters out, a soft blush rising up his cheeks as he nervously pulls at his ear.

“I should be saying that to you. Why are you in Jin’s room?” You shut the door, leaning on it, feeling oddly territorial.

“I- Hyung needed my room.” You found the stuttering boy in front of you endearing. Something about how he bashfully stared at anything but you while speaking made you want to hug him. 

“Oh my god! You let him into your room? Drunk during a party?” You almost scream, but lower your voice seeing the alarm on his face. Walking over, you sat next to him, a few feet away so as not to make him uncomfortable. “Do you like doing laundry or something?” you joked.

Hearing your question the boy perks up, looking at you with a bright smile that made your heart skip a beat. “I do actually! How did you know?” he asks excitedly. You almost felt bad bursting his bubble.

“I didn’t… It’s just - you know Jin’s probably having sex in there right?” You look at the abject horror on his face in sympathy, so you try to change the subject. “Nevermind. Why are you hiding in here?”

“I’m not hiding. I just got bored. Everyone there just wants to hook up or get blackout drunk.”

“You do realise which frat you’re part of right?”

“I know,” he chuckles, seemingly more relaxed as he lays down on the bed, his feet still on the floor. “I honestly didn’t even wanna join but I’m a legacy so my dad really wanted me to be a part of it, Beta Tau pride and all.”

“Not to be a bitch, but dude you sound like a protagonist of a shitty college romcom,” you laugh looking down at him as he smiles, crossing your legs on the bed as you turn towards him, forcing yourself to ignore how cute he looks from this angle.

“You think you’re being a bitch, but that's a great compliment. I wish my life was a romcom. It’d be so easy…”

“Okay, emo. What’s wrong?”

“You’re going to think it’s dumb.”

“Hey I don’t even know your name! What have you got to lose?”

“Fine. There’s this girl I like and we always call each other… Well I call her.... at this time, but she didn’t pick up. So yes I’m emo, and yes I wish I was in a romcom so I’d go downstairs and randomly run into her.” He looks at you with a sad smile, shrugging slightly, and you feel yourself deflate. Not that you were interested in him or anything. You were sure it was just the alcohol in your system making you feel extra empathetic. Yup that’s it.

“Hey, that’s not stupid,” you say gently. “What if she’s down there did you check?”

“Well… I don’t actually know what she looks like… So, no…”

“Oh then maybe you should call her again! What if she was busy?”

“I don’t wanna be pushy, you know? I’m not even sure she thinks of me the same-”

“YO DIXIE! You in there?” A loud knock booms through the room accompanied by a deep voice. The attractive stranger next to you rolls his eyes before standing up, and at hearing his nickname you feel your heart kickstart, racing as you blink in disbelief. It can’t be…

“Dixie?” you stutter out.

“What’s up dude?” He opens the doors talking to Taehyung, one of the other Beta Tau brothers, as they start talking about something. You can barely hear their conversation, your brain full of scenarios and questions, your face crimson. You never thought you’d meet Dixie in real life. Do you tell him? Do you just run away? Why did he have to be so hot?!

Taehyung notices you on the bed for the first time and in typical fashion starts hollering and high-fiving Dixie. “Damn dude! The president’s best friend! Good for you!” He snickered as Dixie looked at him with his mouth agape, before turning to you. “Ay Y/N. Treat our boy JK well okay? He’s too nice for you!”

“Fuck off hyung!” JK, apparently that’s his name, shoves Taehyung as he grins widely before wiggling his eyebrows suggestively and shutting the door, seemingly getting all that he came for.

“You’re Dixie…?” You stare up at him, standing up as you try to control the overwhelming urge to wrap your hands around him. Fuck, maybe Joon was right you did have a crush on your voice pen pal.

“I- Y/N?” He looks at you, mirroring your wide eyes. “The same Y/N I’ve been talking to?”

“Call me,” you almost whisper.

“What?”

“Call me so I know it’s real.” You move closer holding your phone up as he pulls his out of his pocket to dial your number. Your phone rings, displaying a set of numbers instead of unknown for the first time, and the two of you just stare at the vibrating device in your hand. It seems like time stood still, the air thick with tension as your shitty ringtone bounces off the walls. That is until you start laughing. Not giggling, full on laughing, holding your stomach as tears spill down your face, as JK looks at you in alarm, his arms hovering near you as you double over.

“Holy shit! You are the protagonist of a romcom!” You finally wheeze out as you hold his arm for support, while he looks at you with a frown. You’re unsure why this was your reaction, but you recover quickly to start your interrogation.

“So what’s your name Dixie or JK?”

“Jungkook, actually. Dixie’s my gamertag and JK is just what Jin hyung calls me.”

“How did you get my number?”

“Umm… I might have stolen it from hyung’s phone…”

“Why?”

“Because he prank called my friends first.” He spoke with a pout, and you swear your heart forgot to function.

“Why keep calling?”

“Really Y/N? You’re gonna interrogate me?” He raised an eyebrow at you.

“Keep talking Dixie!” You chuckled as his shy demeanor gave way to the Dixie, well the Jungkook, you knew. It was weird how fast the earlier awkwardness dissipated into comfort.

“What? I thought you sounded pretty! Sue me!” He shrugged, leaning back against the door, his hands in his pocket. Your eyes followed the movement, momentarily distracted by how his forearms flexed. Clearing your throat, you continued as he smirked, not missing the way your eyes seemed to be roaming his body.

“You said you were trying to call the girl you like. So you like me?” You try to sound as matter of fact as you could, but your voice wavered slightly at the last part as you made the mistake of looking at his face. He tilted his head, causing his hair to fall into his eyes that were boring holes into you, his smirk getting larger. Oh how you wished he turned back into the boy talking about how much he liked laundry.

“I thought it was obvious. I call you every night.” He stood straight, taking a step towards you causing heat to creep up your face at his sudden confidence. You don’t respond as he moves closer, causing his steps to falter. “Do you like me?” he asks, his voice a little smaller. You’re getting whiplash from the changes in his tone, but his question makes you feel warm. You haven’t felt this way in a long time, there’s butterflies in your stomach, your hands feel clammy, and you’re sure you can feel the heat off his body, so aware of where he stands merely inches away from you.

“I think so…” you move closer and he raises his hand as if to hold your hip but stops, hovering just centimeters away as looks at you, his gaze smouldering.

“What’ll make you sure of it?” he asks in a whisper, and before you can even comprehend the question, you are leaning up on your toes to press a light kiss against his lips. His lips are slightly chapped and you’re sure he can feel your heartbeat through them. Your skin tingles where he brings his hand on your hip, gently holding you. He doesn’t push you further, just leans his forehead on yours when you separate to whisper quietly, “This.”

“And?” His nose brushes against yours as you place your hand on his chest, his pounding heart mimicking yours. He slowly rubs his hands on your hips where they lay, and it’s like your skin is electrified.

“I’m sure,” you say as he crashes his lips on yours, pulling you closer as your arms snake around his neck. His reaction is much stronger this time as he moves his lips against yours feverently. He pulls you flush against him, your body molding against his hard muscles. His hands grip at your hips as he licks lightly at your lip, groaning as they part. It seems like he can’t decide what to do with his hands, roaming them over your sides, relishing the little moan you make as one of them cups your ass. His earlier shyness disappears, and who are you to resist him, as your hands in his hair pull him closer. It’s like everything finally makes sense, why you could never ignore his calls, why your heart raced whenever you heard him call your name through the static of your speaker. You had spent this whole time convincing yourself that he was just a stranger you could vent to when it was clear to you now that you were falling for him.

He whispers your name as you break apart, but his mouth continues down your jaw to your neck, kissing and sucking at the skin. His teeth drag across your collarbone, and you whimper at the way he soothes it with his tongue as you press your body even closer into his.

“Hey Y/N! Joon’s looking for you!”

The two of you break apart at the interruption, chest heaving and faces flushed. Looking up at Jungkook, you smile as he looks away shyly, his lip caught between his teeth, before turning to your best friend who is excitedly hopping in the doorway.

“I knew you would get along with JK!” Jin exclaims as you look once again at Jungkook before you both break out in a laugh. Trust Jin to know who you’d fall for before you. He comes up to pat his frat brother on the shoulder before his proud smile turns into a glare, warning the two of you that his room was for sleeping only and abruptly kicking you out. 

The two of you giggle as you make your way downstairs, unable to keep your hands off of each other, going from holding hands to hugging to sneaking kisses in the kitchen as you make your drinks. Before the night ends the two of you end up sitting in the backyard, kissing under the stars and planning your first date later that week, even though it felt like you had known each other an eternity.

You had never felt luckier to pick up a random phone call.

#bts fic #bts fanfiction #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #btsholidaybingo #thebtswritersclub #jungkook x reader #bts x reader #jungkook x yn

[blindbeta]

Why “It Was Just a Question” and “It Was Just a Joke” Are Not Defenses For Ableism And Why Your Reaction Is the Most Important Thing

When someone is disabled, neurodiverse, etc people can sometimes ask really ignorant, invasive, or invalidating questions that take emotional labor to answer. And sometimes there is a lot of pressure to answer. This is even worse if it is a joke instead, and the options are to ignore it or say something and risk being yelled at because “it was just a joke, gosh.” Confronting people and setting boundaries gets you called over-sensitive, over-reacting, childish, etc.

I’ll make this clear: it isn’t about your questions or jokes - it is about the assumptions you made when you opened your mouth and the reaction you had when you were corrected.

Let’s Talk About Questions.

I first want to say, I started this blog because I wanted to. You are more free to ask me questions than random blind people on the street. The questions I receive here are also good, researched questions where I can tell someone has read my blog or some articles. I’m not posting to give my followers or anyone else anxiety. The whole point is that these people don’t have an interest in learning, doing any of their own work, or challenging their false beliefs. They want me to endure them and confirm them. I haven’t had to do that here and if I did, it would be easier than in real life because I can choose not to answer a question by deleting it. My followers are also already respectful of and educated on blind people, and so if I have a response that is less than perfectly polite, readers will know why. That is not true outside of this blog.

Now let’s talk about questions and why they can be used in a bad way. What makes a question bad? What is the difference between a genuine and ignorant question? What if you don’t have time to research?

A Bad question here is one that is based on a usually false assumption that prompts a desired answer. An example would be, “Are you really sad that you can’t read?” or “Why would a blind person need a phone when they can’t use it?”

I see a lot of these on tumblr. For example, one blog I followed received an ask that basically said blind people couldn’t be in the orchestra because such and such limitation. These questions have, at best, an obvious assumption along with, at times, a confrontational tone. This person does not want education. They want to defend their belief. A better way to truly ask such a question would be something such as, “I read that people in orchestras and choir have to sight read music. How do blind people navigate this?” No assumption is made about a blind person’s ability. The question is asked in an open manner. The asker has done some research.

Now, in real life, people don’t always preface it with how much research they have done. And let’s be real, it usually isn’t much. But someone asking, “Do you prefer Braille or do you use a computer to read?” shows at least some knowledge. They aren’t trying to put me into a box or use me for confirmation bias. It isn’t so much about getting the perfect wording. It’s about not expecting the blind person to confirm something for you, argue with you, or educate you without you putting in any effort. Even “I was wondering how you do assignments,” is open and allows for my response. If you aren’t able to research in the moment, make your question open or be transparent. To be honest, I feel better about people not doing research in person than online, because being online usually shows you have some time and tools to research. If resources are not available to you and you don’t have the internet for long periods of time, preface your question with that and acknowledge that the person does not have to respond if your question is offensive. Again,it isn’t about getting it 100% right, but truly trying and prioritizing the comfort of the person you are asking.

When I confront people for asking a question with an assumption, I often receive an angry response. The fault is placed on me for not educating people, for not being cooperative, for being mean. This happens whether I answer or not. If I try to explain to someone assuming I can’t read that I, in fact, can read or use a phone or whatever, this is seen as rude or not cooperative. Even confrontational. This person comes away from the conversation now believing blind people are rude and angry. Usually they assume the blind person is jealous of them for being able to see. Which, in that instance, would not be true.

Making assumptions that a person cannot possibly do something because of their disability, especially when you are ignoring what that person says, is ableist. Pointing this out is not attacking you or even, necessarily, judging you. They are not calling you any other name, no matter what else you claim it means to you. (I once had someone claim that when I said the word ableism or ableist she heard the word bitch.)

Let’s Talk About Jokes.

This one is much harder to navigate, especially because blind people often make jokes themselves. However, I want to continue to consider the underlying assumption and judgement some jokes can contain. The joke is usually bad when it contains an ignorant assumption and falls apart when that assumption is corrected.

One example is that picture that often goes around with a person holding a white cane is using a phone. The joke asks what’s wrong with the picture. The problem is not that it’s a joke, as most people assume. The problem is the assumption underneath this particular example, which, by the way, can result in blind people being harassed and even hurt. Read my post here.

But it isn’t even the joke that is the problem. The reaction is. Instead of being accused to attacking someone for an innocent question, someone who points out the problem with a joke or even that it was hurtful, gets someone accused of not having a sense of humor or being mean. I wouldn’t feel comfortable doing that in real life, not outside of this blog. It is, honestly, too difficult and too uncomfortable.

The reaction people sometimes have is one of defense. They aren’t ableist, it was just a joke, can’t you take a joke?, why are you so serious?, you are ruining the joke, etc. People also assume disabled people can’t tell when someone has made a mistake and when they are genuinely asking a question or trying to call attention to something by making a joke. Disabled people are not trying to take all jokes away. They just want to point out when something is harmful. Doubling down about how that person can’t take a joke is a big problem.

Again, it isn’t that someone made a joke about disabled people. It’s the assumptions inside the joke itself that are harmful. For example, jokes about blind people going to cinemas don’t land because blind people do watch movies. The joke falls apart when you remove the assumption - and not knowing that it was an assumption is part of the problem in the first place.

What Now?

Again, this post was never about not asking questions or not making jokes. It is about ways they can go wrong and how people can make it worse by getting defensive instead of being open to learning and moving on. Everyone makes assumptions or repeats jokes sometimes, and whether or not it becomes an argument is about being open to learning.

Disabled people aren’t out there looking for people to confront. Most of the time, they just want to go about their day or have a nice time with friends. If someone corrects you, no matter the setting, treat it as an opportunity for your growth and to make others feel more comfortable. Listen, apologize, acknowledge your mistake, and change your behavior.

My aim here is not to complain or to make people feel bad or even worry excessively. My goal was simply to share my thoughts on why these things can be a problem and offer suggestions on how to avoid them.

I hope this helps.

-BlindBeta

Note: I provide sensitivity reading for blind characters. See my Pinned Post for information.

#blind #myths about blind people #blindbeta

[maxineswritingcenter]

You Saved Me - Derek Hale x fem!reader part 27

------------

"So it's safe now?" I asked into the phone, a little less enthusiastic as I would have been four years ago. Four. Years. In those four years, I had moved out of Castle McLeod, gotten my own little cottage on the mainland, and Nicholas has been taking Gaelic classes to prepare him for school next year. But it seemed that they were unnecessary now.  

"Yeah, now it's finally safe." Scott said, nervously. 

"Scott, have you looked at a calendar?" 

“A lot of stuff has happened!” 

“I’m well aware of that. Including stuff I should have been there for.” Nothing like hearing your best friend was possessed by a Nogitsune. I sighed, happy at least that I could come home. I had the paperwork done for months, it took almost four years to get the paperwork for Nicholas’ citizenship. It’s almost as if the United States was making it harder and harder for people to enter the country. 

“Alright, I’ll pick up Michael from work and get Nicholas in the car.” 

“You’re bringing Michael?” 

“Yeah, I have to. He’s my bodyguard.” 

“Derek’s not gonna like that.”

“Yeah well, I wouldn’t know that would I?” I snapped. Derek had become a touchy subject in the house. Considering that I hadn’t heard from him in three years. 

“Okay, okay, but Derek said-”

“I don’t care what Derek said. I don’t.” I put on a smile when I saw Nicholas walk in, “I’ll see you tomorrow.” I hung up before he could continue. I slid my phone in my back pocket and grinned down at my son. 

“Guess what, sweetie.” 

“Wha?” He asked, his green eyes wide. His long, dark hair in his eyes. He picked up an accent from living here, mostly from Lachlan who had become his favorite person. 

Bending down, I swept the hair away from his eyes, “We’re gonna move to America. We get to see mama’s family.” 

“Really?!” He started bouncing up and down. 

“Yeah!” I picked him up in my arms and held him close, “Uncle Stiles and Grandpa Noah and Uncle Scott.” I paused, trying to figure out how to add his other family in without him asking questions, “All of them.” 

“Yay!” He cheered. Pressing a kiss to his cheek, I carried him into his room and started to pack his bag. 

-

"Hey, darlin'." Michael sat down in the passenger seat of my rental car, pressing a kiss to my cheek before looking back, "Sin mo bhalach! (There’s my boy)." I really wasn’t a fan of these but he was trying to keep up appearances for the locals that we were just a little family.

"Bidh thu a ’sabaid ris na droch ghillean, Mikey?(You fight the bad guys?)" Nicholas was almost fluent in Scottish Gaelic. Sometimes, he spoke words that I didn’t even know yet. 

"I sure did, bud!" He smiled and then looked back at me, "You wouldn't believe what we went through today. Rouge teenage werewolf pack, no alpha. Major power struggle. We put them in detainment and we're looking into a pack that'll take them in." 

"Yeah sounds... Fun." He was in his maroon uniform that Lachlan created for all Lunar Circle bodyguards; it looked like a cross between the Green Berets and navy camo.  On his breast pocket was a bronze and gold wolf-print medal. 

"What's wrong, darlin?" He asked. I looked behind and pressed the screen icon on the touch screen on the dash. 

"Hey, honey.” I looked back at Nicholas in the rearview mirror, “Why don't you watch a movie? Yeah?" He nodded with a grin, putting on his blue earmuffs with built in sound protection and happily started watching whatever movie I had put in the DVD player, Strange Magic I think.

“What is it?" 

"Well, first: you don’t have to call me darlin when we’re alone.” I glanced at him and then the road, Two, Scott called. It's safe to go back home." I looked back at Nicholas in the mirror, he looked so peaceful. Just humming along to whatever was playing.

"And I want to see Uncle Noah and Stiles." 

Michael stared out the window, "And Derek too, I'm assuming.” He said grimly, “(Y/N), I thought you were over him. I thought we were finally moving on with our lives. Are you playing with my emotions-"

"Do you think this is a game? I love my life here, but I need to see my family. I want him to know his family outside of a computer screen. And if that means he sees Derek, then he will." 

"Alright, alright, fine. Let's go back. I gotta pack-" 

"Oh, already did that. Clothes packed, Lachlan’s having the rest shipped on his freighter.”

He chuckled, "Figured. You're always prepared." Michael smiled, looking back at Nicholas who was halfway asleep, struggling not to drop his sippy cup.

"What are we going to do about Derek?" He asked. 

Sighing, my shoulders slumped, "I don't know, Mikey. I really don't."

-

Lachlan met us at the airport to see us off. Well, more to see Nicholas off. Since he was born, Lachlan had gone above and beyond for the little boy. From boat rides, to swimming in Loch Ness, to whatever toy his little heart desired. The Praetor spoiled him for sure. 

“He’s got everything?” Lachlan asked nervously, “All his clothes? Does he have puppy dog because you know he can’t sleep without it-” 

“Lachlan, relax.” I held onto his shoulders, “Nicholas has everything he needs.” 

“I’m just nervous.” Lachlan said, looking over as Nicholas slept on Michael’s lap, “I don’t know what we��ll do without him.” 

“You mean you don’t know what you’ll do?” I lightly punched his shoulder. 

He sighed, “I just... You two are family to me. The family that I never got to have.” He looked back at me, “Maybe I should come with you. I’ve never been to America before. Plus, our ground team of security has already been dispatched to Beacon Hills.” 

“We’ll be safe. It’s finally safe back there.” I smiled. Lachlan sighed loudly, combing his hair back from his face when the overhead voice called for us to board our flight. 

“Okay.” He mumbled, walking over to sleeping Nicholas and taking him into his arms. 

“I’ll see you soon, kiddo.” He kissed the top of his head. Nicholas mumbled something in his sleep, tightening his grip on his wolf plush - puppy dog.

-

"There she is!" Uncle Noah walked out of the house, arms wide. I squealed, running up the driveway and into his arms. He squeezed me tight, swaying us from side to side. Uncle Noah smelled like home, something that I had missed for so long. He sniffled a little, pulling away to look down at me.

"Awh sweetheart..." He held my cheeks, wiping away happy tears.

"Happy tears, happy tears." I hiccupped, looking back at Michael who got a sleepy Nicholas out of his car seat.

"Stiles off being an FBI man?" I chuckled.

"You bet, but he's gonna be home soon."

Once Nicholas rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, they opened wide when he saw Uncle Noah.

"Grandpa!" He ran up, replacing me in Uncle Noah's arms.

"Look how big you are!" He said through a grin, "Oh I have waited for so long to hug on you." He startled tickling the little boy, causing a fit of giggles.

 "Let's get you guys inside, I bet you're starving." He led us inside, Nicholas talking his ear off.

Dinner was good, but anything would be good since we had been eating Scottish cuisine for the last four years. Not that I didn't like the food there, it's just that nothing beat the tastes of home.

After dinner, Nicholas had crashed in the middle of the living room floor. Even after a cross-continental flight, he had enough energy to stay up way past his bedtime back home to talk and place with all the toys that Grandpa had bought him. Oddly enough, it was around that he would go to bed time-wise. Lachlan said that werewolves had an internal clock and always knew when to wake up and when to sleep. Yeah, tell that to all the sleepless nights in the first few months of his life.

Michael patted my hand and stood up, going into the living room and oh so carefully picked up the sleeping boy and took him upstairs to my old room. Leaving Uncle Noah and I with our coffee. 

"Still nothing from Derek, huh?"

"Nada. Nicholas has never really asked."

"Does he think Michael's his dad?" He said over a sip from his mug.

"Oh absolutely not. As far as he knows, his dad is off having great adventures. That's what he's come up with."

"I thought you said Derek was going to be a part of his life."

"He was." I sipped my now cold coffee, "He tried for a while. He used to video call us for a couple months."

"There's daddy." I held the four month old in front of the camera as soon as Derek's face filled the screen. Nicholas made a cooing noise and reached for the screen with little grabby hands. Derek grinned brightly, the special twinkle in his eye that made my soul want to melt. 

"There's my boy." His eyes searched the screen, "He still has so much hair." 

I nodded, "Yeap. All thanks to you, Sasquatch." I sat the baby boy on my lap and kissed the top of his head. My attention was brought back to Derek where he was just staring at us with so much love and adoration that I wanted nothing more than to fly back to Beacon Hills.

"Did you get my package?" He asked, referring to the large box full of toys, clothes, pictures and random items that he was completely spoiling our child with.

"If you mean all the toys, yeah, we got it." I smiled, "He's in love with that little wolf plush. He can't sleep without it." As if on cue, Nicholas started whining until he was given the toy which was beside us on the bed. When I gave it he promptly started gumming on the ear.

"Yeah, I thought he might." He leaned on his hand and watched him, "Cora said that it was cliché but I don't care." Then he sat up like he had thought of something. 

"What about your gift?" He leaned in towards the screen.

I shook my head and smiled, "I'm wearing it, aren't I?" I tugged at the hem of the shirt I was wearing. It was one of his black t-shirts, one that hadn't been torn or soiled with blood. It smelled just like him and I had been wearing it at night to sleep.

"Has he started showing any signs?" 

I looked down at my baby, "Not that I can think of. But he's only a couple months old. Lachlan said that if he hasn't shown signs now, he may have the dormant gene. Since I was a werewolf when he was conceived he should more than likely be one. But no dice, he sleeps all night during the full moon. Or, that's what Michael tells me." He scoffed. 

"What?"

"I guess Michael's the expert now." 

 "Derek, we're not doing this again."  Michael was a touchy subject.

"You know what?" He said, "I gotta go. I'll call you tomorrow." The video call ended.

~

"And that's the last time I heard from him." I got up and poured my cold coffee in the sink and started rinsing out the mug.

"That doesn't sound like Derek." He looked back at me, "But... It will be nice having people in the house again. With Stiles being gone all the time. Nicholas is great." He grinned, "A little rambunctious, but he's pretty great." 

"You're telling me." I leaned against the counter after I turned off the sink, "His first word was momma. After that he started getting better and better. Talking all the time. He's almost fluent in Gaelic." I added, "Lachlan basically started a preschool program for the other kids after he was born. And while he's at preschool, I am leading their research team on the negative effects of the Wolf Eclipse spell and the intergenerational trauma that comes from it."

"Well look at that, my little girl, head of the research team." He stood up and walked to the sink, rinsing his cup and leaving it there.

"Just no big deal." I smirked.

"So when is Derek coming?" He asked, leaning against the counter.

I inhaled through my teeth and shrugged, "He doesn't know we're here. I've been trying to figure out how to talk to him since we got on the plane."

 "Oh..." Uncle Noah grimaced, "Cause ya see, Stiles is working with Derek on something. And Derek's been staying here."  

My eyes widened in shock, and my head whipped around just in time for the door to open. Stiles stood in the doorway, dressed in a collared shirt, tie, black slacks and dress shoes. I had not seen him this dressed up in a decade. But my focus was on the werewolf standing behind him, staring right back at me. He hadn't changed a bit, not that I expected him to look so different. But I hadn't heard from him in so long that he almost felt like a different person. Not even our connection could travel that far so seeing him now was strange. The connection we had was back again, my heart felt full after feeling half empty for so long. I was back where we started four years ago, the familiar strangers.

"God dammit." I whispered to myself before smiling awkwardly, "Uh... Surprise?"

"(Y/N)... Hey..." Stiles said in his Stiles fashion of being incredibly awkward. He rubbed the back of his neck, his eyes darting from me to Derek. 

 Derek had not taken his eyes off of me, just kept on staring on in confusion. It was like he couldn't fathom that I was actually standing in the kitchen. 

"Where is he?" He asked softly. 

“I-...” I had come up with some many things to say to him. I had even written them down. But they went poof out of my memory. 

"Where is he?" His eyes changed color, but his eyes weren't alpha red, no. They were beta yellow again. He had lost his alpha status... But how. And how come they weren’t blue anymore? Obviously, Scott and Stiles had missed a few details. His eyes scanned the room and locked on Nicholas’ dinosaur sippy cup that he left on the table. That was all he needed before he started for the stairs. I blocked his path to the stairs, flashing my red eyes at him to show dominance. He couldn’t go past me, I was the alpha here. 

Or, at least, that’s what I thought. When it came to his child, Derek Hale would stop at nothing to get to him. I would admire that if he wasn’t trying to get around me to get upstairs. He grabbed me by the arms, throwing me back towards the living room, storming up the stairs. I scrambled to follow, Stiles and Uncle Noah behind me, calling for him to stop. 

When I made it up the stairs, I found him staring into the open doorway of my bedroom. He had an expression I couldn’t read, but his emotions came flooding out in anger and betrayal. Since he was distracted, I grabbed him by the back of his neck and threw him to the ground. He pulled me with him, flipping us so that he was on top, roaring down at me. 

“Why did you keep him from me?!”

“You kept him from yourself!” I roared back. 

“Mommy!” We both looked towards the doorway where Nicholas stood. He was wearing little footie pajamas, clutching onto his wolf. He was trembling at what he was witnessing. 

Derek growled, sitting up quickly. I grabbed his arm, trying to get up. He had caught me so off guard that I was scrambling to keep up. He glared back, shoving me into the wall and walking towards the door. Nicholas screamed, running back into the room. 

“YOU’RE SCARING HIM!” I screamed, reaching out. In his rage, I don’t think he realized what he was doing. 

Then there was a pop and Derek fell on his back, a tranquillizer dart in his neck. I looked up, seeing Michael with the gun in one hand and crying Nicholas in the other. I stood up quickly, taking Nicholas in my arms, holding him close. 

“It’s okay, baby. Mommy’s here. Everything’s alright.” I tried to sound reassuring, but it was hard too when I was looking down at my child’s father on the floor. 

-

"It took a while but Nicholas went down. I was with him until he fell asleep." I slumped down on the couch next to Stiles. Stiles wrapped an arm around my shoulders, pulling me into his side. I missed moments like this. 

“I should have killed him.” Michael grumbled, pacing in front of us. Derek was tied up and sat against the wall. He was still passed out, he would be for a while. In the meantime, we need to figure out what we were going to do with him. 

“Alright, cool it, dude.” Stiles narrowed his eyes up at him. He said that he still didn’t like Michael. Truth is, I didn’t either. A lot of things were still unclear, even now. 

“We all just need to calm down and figure out what we’re doing.” Uncle Noah said, leaning forward in his recliner chair. 

“Look, we just need to let him wake up and...” I sighed and leaned my head on Stiles’ shoulder, “I just need to talk to him, figure out what happened.” 

Uncle Noah looked between Michael and I, “He told us that he-” 

“It doesn’t matter what he told you.” Michael snapped. I looked up at him, narrowing my eyes. 

“Watch your tone.” I said sternly. Michael sighed, sitting on the couch beside me, putting a hand on my knee. Stiles and I stared at his hand. I grabbed his hand and put it on his own knee. 

"What?" He asked in an exasperated way.

"Please, we can't do that right now." It wasn't the answer he wanted to hear. But I don't really care about that. All I know is that we need to talk to Derek in a controlled environment. Which, unfortunately, was the last place I wanted to be. 

"We need to bring him to the bunker in the Hale House.” Michael said.

I winced, "Do we have to? It's just..." I thought back to the day where I thought Derek and I were going to die. I thought our last moments together would be pain and ache from seeing each other die.

“(Y/N), he just traumatized Nicholas. I don't give a shit if he has PTSD. He's not under the protection of the Lunar Circle, his safety and well-being is not my priority." He stood and walked to Derek, ready to grab him. 

“Wait a minute.” Michael stopped at my voice, his eyes darting from me to the sheriff, “Uncle Noah.” I turned towards him, “What did Derek say?” 

“That doesn’t matter.” Michael said quickly. 

“She isn't talking to you.” Stiles said, standing up and moving between Michael and I. I looked at Uncle Noah. 

“What did he say?” I asked calmly. 

Uncle Noah sat back in his recliner, “Well...” He rolled his shoulders back, “Derek said that he was frustrated that he couldn’t get ahold of you. And when he tried to go through Michael, he said not to call because you didn’t want to talk to him.” I smiled to myself, clicking my tongue. I turned to Michael, my smile falling and my eyes burning red.

“Did I?” I chuckled, “I had no idea.” I stood up and stalked forward, shoving Michael, “You kept him from calling us, didn’t you?” 

Michael raised his hands in surrender, “You just seemed so angry with him after that call, I thought-” 

“No, you didn’t think.” I interrupted, “You selfish son of a bitch.” 

“I am doing what’s best for Nicholas.” He shot back. 

“Whoa whoa.” Uncle Noah got between the two of us, “Put the claws away.” Stiles pulled me away from the situation, leading me outside. He brought me to the backyard, the cool night air felt nice against the hot anger I felt. 

“Thanks for taking me out of there.” I smiled, “I probably would have killed him.” 

“Trust me, the thought crossed my mind.” Stiles shoved his hands in his pockets, “I mean,” He shrugged, “It wouldn’t be so horrible if ended up in a ditch somewhere. He’s a murderer on the run for four years, I feel like it would be fine.” 

I laughed, pulling him close into a tight hug, “I missed you.” 

He smiled, wrapping his arms around my shoulders, “I missed you too.” 

-

The next morning, Stiles, Scott, and I met outside the Hale House cellar. Michael was already there, having taken Derek down already to ‘secure’ him. 

“Well, if it isn’t Scott McCall.” I said, spotting the alpha. The computer screen didn’t do him justice. He had grown so much in four years. He had a new energy about him, he wasn’t a curly haired boy anymore. 

“(Y/N).” He grinned, pulling me into a quick hug, “I was gonna visit yesterday to surprise you but Stiles said it was a bad idea.” 

“Very bad idea.” I looked towards the entrance of the cellar. Going back in there was going to bring up memories, I could almost feel the phantom pains from the acid on my legs.  

“You okay?” Stiles asked, placing a hand on my shoulder. 

“I got this.” I smiled back at both of them, “I got my boys with me.” 

Walking through the tunnels to the cellar was more than enough to give me nightmares for a long time. But Michael was right about one thing: we needed to tell Derek what was going on in a controlled environment. 

By the time we got down to the main area, Michael was putting the handcuffs on Derek, leaving him chained to the wall surrounded by mountain ash. 

“You brought back up, huh?” Michael asked, shoving the bottle of mountain ash in his pocket. 

“I brought my friends. Derek will feel more comfortable around people he trusts. I would be one of them, no thanks to you.” I looked back at Derek, "He'll be awake soon?" 

Michael only nodded. 

"Will he be okay? This won't hurt him, right?" He turned to me and glared. 

"You're still in love with this asshole, aren't you?" He growled, "After everything he's done to you? After everything we," He motioned between us, "Have been through? After I have spent four years of our lives taking care of our child? You still care about this sack of garbage." Scott and Stiles stepped forward, I stretched my arms out to keep them from moving.

I narrowed my eyes at him, “Michael-” 

"No, you're going to listen to me!" He shouted, "I can't believe you. You went through all his shit and you still love him? You still love that stupid son of a bitch. You see this?" He motioned to Derek, "You see this asshole? Who scared the shit out of our baby? You didn't see what I saw. He was screaming and crying out for me, begging me to save you, begging his father to save you from the bad man. Even he can tell who loves him, who his real father is!" 

“The.." We all looked at Derek, who was just starting to wake up, "The hell do you mean," He began to growl, beginning to shift, "His father?" Derek stood up, a little wobbly at first but he stood strong. He had also shifted form. “Nicholas is my son! My flesh and blood! My family! You kept him from me, you kept both of them from me!" He roared and stood, pulling at the chains. 

"You left them behind because of all your jealousy. I took care of him! I've protected him from everything, and for the rest of my life, I will protect him from you!" Michael pointed, barking his words harshly. 

Suddenly, Derek broke his chains, "I'll kill you!" He pushed against the mountain ash barrier. Scott rushed forward to keep Derek at bay while Stiles started a shouting match with Michael. All of this shouting began to overload my senses. I hadn’t felt like this since the spell broke all those years ago. I had to do something, and I had to do it now.

"ENOUGH!" I roared, making the walls shake and thankfully bringing their attention to me, "No more talking, I'm talking now." They all shut up and looked up at me. 

“Michael, I’m not even going to get started with you since this whole situation is your goddamn fault.” I rubbed at my temples, “The only reason that I am even still entertaining you being here is because of my son. Mine. Not yours.” I looked at Derek, “I’m sorry. I didn’t know that Michael had cut off our communication.” 

“So he told you?” Derek continued to glare at Michael. 

“No, I had to figure it out for myself.” I walked towards the barrier, my heart beat rising, “You deserved to be a part of his life from the beginning. I should have fought more.” I took a deep breath, “I should have fought for us.” 

“It’s not your fault.” He said softly. Stiles walked towards us, breaking the barrier with his shoe. 

The force of Derek’s arms wrapping around me nearly knocked me over. His strong arms held me tightly against his chest. I could feel his heart pumping against his chest. One arm was wrapped around my wait, his other hand cradling the back of my head like I would break. I wrapped my arms around him with the same force, if not more. He was so warm, I could almost feel his heat melting away the sadness I had felt for four years. Honestly, I wanted the whole world to fall away at that moment, it felt like I was falling in love with him all over again starting from the time we were teenagers. 

The game was in its final minutes, we were behind by two points. One shot from the three point line and they would win. After the toss up, the opposing team got the ball, leading to our hoop. Derek's teammate quickly weaved through the other players, intercepting the ball and passing it to Derek. I stood up with the rest of the crowd, my whole body tensing up as the clock ticked down. He shot the ball.

Watching Derek play basketball was almost as nerve wracking as being on the lacrosse field. It took everything in me not to make call outs to him. I was bouncing my feet instead of my usual finger twiddling since my arm had been torn up yesterday. Laura had to practically hold me in my seat from her spot besides me. It was a training incident that had gone wrong. Derek had his claws out while I had our training shield. I had gotten distracted and Derek scratched me by accident. My parents were pissed. 

Three...

Two...

One...

The ball rolled around the rim and then fell through the basket.

I cheered, raising my arms in the air, ignoring the pain from my cuts. The team surrounded him, jumping up and down in excitement. Derek looked up at the stands, pointing towards, realistically both of us but I felt like it was right at me. My heart fluttered a bit and I smiled so hard my cheeks hurt. My cheeks burned hot. 

“You blushing, (Y/N/N)?” Laura smirked, looking down at me. 

“What?” My eyes widened, “No.” I started rubbing my cheeks in circles, but Laura stopped me by grabbing my hands and carefully putting them to my sides. Which was helpful since it was starting to hurt my arm.

“Chill out.” She smiled, nodding her head towards the exit, “Let’s go see the big winner.” I nodded, focusing more on hiding my blush than walking so Laura helped me off the bleachers and outside. 

-------------

Read part 28 here!

Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!

Please comment below or message me to be added to the taglist!

YSM Tag:

@nyotamalfoy

@fruitloopzzz

@babygirl-angel-love

@aestheticeggs

@akuri-shinsou

@geli2297

@coruscaret

@oh-my-gosh-everything-is-taken

@bellabadacadabra

@parabatai-winchester

#derek hale fic #derek hale x reader #teen wolf fic #teen wolf x reader

[sixofpomegranates]

Rain in California - Act 1 - California

🥀Mini Series “Rain in California” Act 1 - Part 1 - California🥀

✨My Main Masterlist✨ | 18+ | AO3 | Wattpad

🥀Soundtrack🥀 | ✨Aestethic Trailer✨ |  🥀Masterlist🥀 | Words: 9.4k

A/N: The music used in this story is not owned by me (obviously) & I used it in the same style that 'Rock of ages' and 'Mamma Mia' used songs. I gave them a different meaning and context. The meaning and context are NOT representing the one that the ORIGINAL ARTIST had.

TW: ANGST, mention of loss/death/addiction/sobriety/murder, suicidal thoughts/tendencies, depression, addiction, substance abuse, drugs, alcohol, ABUSIVE RELATIONSHIP, stalking, death by overdose, mentions of OD, passive aggressiveness, arguing,

Songs in this Chapter: La di die – Nessa Berrett Going to Hell | My Medicine | Heaven Knows – The Pretty Reckless

“Spence?”

 Spencer looked up from his book.

Oh, so now he was allowed to talk with them about the case.

Since the briefing they hadn’t talked to him about anything. Spencer had to beg them, to let him work on this case.

He had really felt left out and why?

Because the stalking victim was a famous Rockstar with addiction issues. Spencer was hurt about his team not wanting him to be on the case because of this. Yes, he had struggled with addiction in the past, but he had been clean for over ten years now.

Was this unfair treatment…this distrust in his sobriety, ever going to stop?

It wasn’t like they had cared much about it when Emily had faked her death or when Maeve died, but this, for them, looked like a too high risk? Because there was a pretty girl involved?

He tried his best not to sound passive aggressive when responding.

 “Yeah, JJ?”, with success.

“I asked if everything´s okay.”

“Sure. Why should anything be wrong?”, the blonde shrugged a little, an apologetic look on her face.

“Well the case-“ “It´s just a stalking case. Nothing we haven’t already seen. I actually wonder why we even need to come. The stalker isn’t aggressive and hasn´t hurt anybody. Right now he´s just importunate. The police should be able to catch this unsub themselves.”, he had accidently let a little of his passive aggressiveness slip and Emily, who was sitting next to JJ, looked at him.

“The record label convinced the police to contact us. They seem worried about their artist.”

“From what I know…this girl can take care of herself.”, Luke snickered, earning himself a ‘Come on, really?’-look from Emily. “Sorry, but have you seen or listened to her music? She could probably beat Reid in a fist fight.”

“Just because she´s making rock music, doesn’t mean she´s tough. But we should talk a little about the case, Reid if you ever feel unco-“, he quickly interrupted her with a snappy tone.

“Why, because she´s an addict? I don’t care about that.”, Emily lifted her hands in a calming manner.

“Okay, jeez. Just the way you´re on edge, since the briefing, doesn’t look like you are okay.”, Spencer took a deep breath, trying to talk calmer this time, now almost pleading in tone.

“I-I know. But I´m clean since was twenty-six. I never touched anything again and I don’t feel the need to. I even regulate my alcohol intake, never drinking more than a beer, maybe two glasses of whiskey. Which means, that statistically all of you are at a higher risk, of becoming addicted, during this case, then I am. You guys need to trust me.”, the dark haired woman sighed and nodded.

“You´re right. I´m- We´re just worried. You´re our friend, Spencer.”, she handed him a file. “Just promise me you talk to one of us, if something changes.”

 He nodded opening the file. A picture of [y/n] looked at him. Dark heavy make-up, dark clothing and jet black hair with colorful streaks.

His younger self would´ve been as attracted as terrified of her.

He flipped through the pages. [y/n] [y/l/n]. Twenty-six years old. Stalker since approximately two years. Nothing extremely outstanding for a stalking case…which was kinda outstanding. No letters, no calls, no pictures, no break in, no threats…sometimes she would get random, expensive present delivered to her mansion, but that was it. Given that she was famous, this presents did not even have to be from a stalker.

 “Are we sure there´s even is a stalker?”, Spencer frowned at his own question, Emily shrugged as a response.

“According to the manager, Philip Schuyler, since the first time she played his concerns down, he gets these calls of a man asking for [y/n] and how she is doing. The label didn’t take it serious after he told them, but then the unsub stole the last finished album from [y/n]´s band ‘Shot Monarch’, before it could get released and distributed, also erasing every digitally existing copy. He then called the manager and send the owner of the record label a letter; typed on a computer, no fingerprints; stating that he wanted to be taken serious. Later [y/n] got the USB, containing all her songs, with a dozen white lilies, her favorite, back per mail with an apology letter; stating that she had done nothing wrong and didn’t need to worry, since he could never harm her or her carrier. That´s when the label pushed the police to contact us.”

“Because they are worried about the music…not the woman.”, JJ sighed, shaking her head.

“Well, that´s the industry. At least her manager is worried. Police states that he got himself a gun license after that and tries to be everywhere [y/n] is.”, Luke added.

“Something about that is off.”, Spencer whispered, rubbing his stubbles, before looking at JJ, Emily and Luke again. “There is nothing that indicates a stalker, but every time somebody doubts his existence, he does something noticeable. I know she is famous and that comes with the stigma of having crazed fans as stalkers, but most stalking in general is committed by someone known to the victim, such as an ex-partner or acquaintance. We should check that out.”, JJ nodded.

“It would also be smart if one of us stays by her site.”, Luke quickly raised his hand.

“I volunteer. I- Like- Really! If necessary I´ll sleep in the SUV.”, Emily raised an eyebrow.

“Can it be that you´re a fan? I heard you and Penelope freak out a little over the case earlier.”, a shy smirk appeared on his lips.

“‘Shot Monarch’ has really good music. Since my road trip a year ago, I love their stuff. Penelope actually tol-”, Spencer interrupted him determined.

“I´ll do it.”, Emily quickly shook her head.

“Reid, no.” “Why not?”, his voice got high, making him quickly cleared his throat. “Because-“ “Because she is taking drugs. Do you trust me that little, Emily?”, Spencer snapped at her and she leaned back into her seat. Sure the others from the team were older than him, but he was in his late thirties, and yet was treated like a child.

 “Fine. If you think you can handle it, do it. But stop being so sassy, I hate that.”, Emily looked at look in defeat. “Luke tell him what you know about [y/n] and the band.”, he nodded pulling out his phone.

“Okay so, [y/n] is the lead singer of ‘Shot Monarch’. She´s from a small town in Ohio and came to LA when she was eighteen, to become a singer after going viral. They are a band since five years, the name never really got explained by them, but it has something to do with the butterfly; at least that’s a fan theory I now from Penelope. Plus it makes sense, because [y/n] has a tattoo of one on the back of her hand.”, Luke flipped through some pictures of older man, reminding Spencer of bikers and insurance agents at the same time. Like middle-aged fathers that liked rock but still had a nine-to-five job.

“Hank, the guitarist, was a lawyer before and in a cover band with his high school friends Tom, the bassist, who worked for an insurance company, and Leroy, the drummer, who was history teacher and is also married to Hank. They met [y/n] at an open mic night and even though she´s twenty-six and they are in their late forties, early fifties, they got along so well, that they became a band. That´s ‘Going to Hell’ by the way. One of the more controversial songs.”, Luke pressed play on the video and already moved the lips to the lyrics.

  “Father did you miss me,

Been locked up a while.

I got caught for what I did but took it all in style.

Laid to rest all my confessions I gave way back when.

Now I'm versed in so much worse,

So I am back again, and he said

For the lives that I take, I'm going to hell!

For the love that I make, I'm going to hell!

Gettin' heavy with the devil, you can hear the wedding bells.”

  “The guitar you´re hearing is a classic Hank. That guy knows what he´s doing.”, Luke added, seemingly in his element, reminding Spencer a lot of Garcia when she was excited.

 Spencer nodded and watched the music video, the overall theme was dark and heavy. [y/n] voice was nice, a little smoky and strong, but everything just sounded so angry. Not really his style, although he preferred older, classical music in general over the ‘normal’ things ‘normal’ people liked. [y/n] wore tightfitting latex, while the men from her band mostly just wore black jeans and shirts, sometimes leather jackets. At one time, she was surrounded by snakes, only wearing white lingerie. She was really pretty, red lipstick making her look like a biting version of Snow White. Like a princess that would rather save herself, becoming the villain along the way, before letting someone else save her.

  “Father did you miss me,

Don't ask me where I've been.

You know I know, yes, I've been told I redefine a sin.

I don't know what's driving me to put this in my head.

Maybe I wish I could die, maybe I am dead!

And he said

For the lives that I fake, I'm going to hell!

For the vows that I break, I'm going to hell!

For the ways that I hurt, when I'm hiking up my skirt.

I am sitting on a throne while they're buried in the dirt.

For the man that I hate, I'm going to hell!

Gettin' heavy with the devil, you can hear the wedding bells.”

  The lyrics and symbolistic in the video mocked parts of the Christian belief system. Such as the bite Eve had taken from the apple, showing [y/n] taking a bite from the forbitten fruit. The last supper and the crucifixion were shown with a dark twist too. This could be a hint of rebellion, to cope with religious trauma, or simply be a way to cause controversy.

“Please forgive me father,

I didn't mean to bother you.

The devil's in me father.

He's inside of everything I do.

For the lives that I take, I'm going to hell!

For the laws that I break, I'm going to hell!

For the love that I hate, I'm going to hell!

For the lies that I make, I'm going to hell!

For the way I condescend and never lend a hand.

My arrogance is making this head buried in the sand.

For the souls I forsake, I'm going to hell!

Gettin' married to the devil, you can hear the wedding bells.”

As the video ended Luke took his phone and put it back into his pocket.

“Their earlier stuff had a little more emotion to it, was about heartbreak, suffering and made you feel. This is one of the more recent ones and you can hear that it´s now mostly just stuff like sex, drugs and anger. Most people think that´s because [y/n] writes all of their music and she´s…seen better days…”, Luke sighed, trying to make it sound as polite as possible.

“Because she started taking drugs?”, Spencer raised his eyebrows, but Luke shook his head. “Oh, no. She, according to many rumors and an interview with her father, has taken drugs since she was a teen. But at this point…she just simply seems to have given up, having chosen to not go deeper with her songs anymore. I mean, they still slap. They just don’t slap your heart anymore, you know?”

“Not so nice, when your father talks to the press about your addiction. Could her father be a suspect?”, JJ asked, making Luke shrug and shake his head at the same time.

“Most likely not. He said in that interview that he wishes her the best, but doesn’t want to speak to her again.”, Emily mouthed a silent ‘ouch’, the whole talk about the rockstars private life making Spencer think.

“Maybe that´s part why she´s taking drugs? Often people use them to cope with-“, Emily interrupted him, profiling [y/n] and her substance abuse, quickly.

“Reid. We´re not going there to fix her, just the stalking situation.”, he nodded, knowing that he had a savior complex, always trying to help and save everybody.

“Exes?”, Spencer asked and Luke shook his head.

“Just one is known, Dean Lennox, singer, now married with kids. He and [y/n] were together for two years and according to him it was toxic. Like, always fighting, jealousy, distrust, fear of being left but she still didn’t want him close at the same time, lying. After their last breakup, he told a gossip magazine, he just couldn’t watch her destroy herself anymore. She never commented on it.”, JJ looked at Spencer worried.

“She seems like a handful, are you sure you can handle her alone?”, he chuckled while nodding.

“I´ve been through worse. How hard can it be to watch a twenty-six year old? When she, like Luke said, really doesn’t want anyone close, I´ll just sit on her couch and let her do her thing.”

*****

After landing in Los Angeles and checking into their hotel, the team drove to police station. There already waited a massage for them with an address. It was from the manager, he wrote that he was terribly sorry, but they needed to come to the recording studio, since the band was on a tight schedule all morning. Luke had tried his best, but Spencer could see his excitement through his tough-guy-façade. He, JJ, Luke and Emily took one of the SUV´s and drove to the address.

 The building they entered was large and with great security. Expensive, white marble flooring in the entire entrance hall. They showed their batches to the lady at the front desk and the security, she called somebody and soon a short, pudgy man, dressed in a designer suit walked out of the elevator and up to them. He smiled at them friendly and shook everyone’s hand.

 “Ah, the agents. I am so glad that you´re here. Hi. Hello. I´m Philip Schuyler, the manager of ‘Shot Monarch’.”, Emily shook his hand and pointed at the team.

“Nice to meet you. I´m unit chief SSA Prentiss, those are SSA Jareau, Alvez and that´s Dr. Spencer Reid. He will take on the job as bodyguard for Miss [y/l/n].”, the man scratched his brown hair, avoiding the bald spot on top.

“Yes, uhm, please just call her [y/n]. She really dislikes being called Miss [y/l/n]. We also already have police and security around her house, so I don’t know how important a personal bodyguard is. I really want this case solved and it would be terrible if we would hinder your work.”, Spencer lifted a finger.

“Actually, it would be better if I´m able to stay close to [y/n]. Normal police and security could probably oversee minor details about the stalker, Mr. Schuyler.”, the man waved off.

“Please, Mr. Schuyler was my father. Philip is completely fine. Everybody calls me that.”, he started walking to the elevator and the agents followed him. “Right now the band´s having a little break. After that, we need to record one more song for the ‘live in the studio’-version of their new album, that just came out. Are you familiar with their music?”, they got into the elevator and Luke already nodded.

“Yeah. Really great. Big fan.”, Emily lifted her hand, silencing Luke.

“I´m sorry. If that´s a problem we can-“, Philip laughed, interrupting her.

“Oh, no, no. [y/n] will love that. She likes meeting fans and showing off her music.”

 They got out of the elevator, walked through the little hallway and entered the large double door in front of them. There was the recording studio. A lot of technical things, Spencer didn’t know much of, and a large glass wall in front of it, showing another room.

 The recording room was large, with a black leather couch and beanbags in it and nice, warm, wooden flooring. A drum set was placed on an vintage looking, red carpet and the overall lighting was warm and inviting as well. The door to the room was open and he could hear the three men, from the band, talking and laughing inside.

 “Guys, can you come out for a bit?”, Philip asked them and they looked up, walking up to them. “Okay, uhm, guys, those are the agents from the FBI. You know? The once coming because of [y/n]´s stalker.”, the largest man, a head taller than Spencer, smiled through his long grey beard that contrasted his bald head.

“Nice to meet you then, I´m Hank. That my husband Leroy,”, they shook hands with the dark skinned, skinny man, who in contrast to his husband was cleanshaven, with short black hair and glasses, “and that´s our friend Tom.”, the chubby, white, blond waved at them friendly.

“Why would like to talk with each of you individually, later at the police station, if that is possible.”, Emily said before introducing her team again, also mentioning Spencer´s duty as bodyguard. Leroy grimaced his face.

“Uh, [y/n] will hate that. The girl does not like being babysat.” “I´m not going to babysit her.”, Spencer answered, making Leroy chuckle. “That´s not how she will see it though.”, Hank sighed and put a hand on Spencer´s shoulder.

“Our girl is going through a lot right now. So it would be nice of you, to not take everything she´s saying personally, okay?”

“Personally?”

 Spencer raised his eyebrows. He desperately hoped [y/n] wouldn’t be a bitch the entire time, since he couldn’t promise to not give her a piece of his mind, if so.

“[y/n]´s a little belligerent…Easy to get triggered and then she blows up like a bomb.”, Tom said and JJ cocked her head. “Is the stalking getting at her?”, Leroy shook his head. “Not really. But her mother died a few months ago and since then…little rough patch. She´ll get better. We all hit rock bottom once.”

“Is she going to therapy?”, Emily asked straight forward, making Tom, the chubby one chuckle. “Not since she hit the last therapist a few years ago. We paid his medical expenses and he was nice enough to not sue her. But we are here to help her, once she´s ready to let us.” “Must be exhausting, for you.”, JJ said empathetic and all the men waved off.

“Because of the drugs? No, it´s not that bad. She´ll collect herself. I have seven kids. Four of them are going through puberty right now. Phil has a toddler and Leroy and Hank have three rescue dogs and a couple of snakes. We can handle her.”, Tom laughed and the rest of the men started too.

“And that little stalker…Imma just say, I´m gonna rip him a new one, should I ever get the chance of meeting him. Counts for all of us.”, Hank added with everyone nodding in agreement.

“[y/n]´s a really nice girl and she´s been through a lot. If you´re nice to her, chances are high she´ll warm up to you and you won´t have any problems.”, Tom said to Spencer making him nod.

“And if she doesn’t?”, the tall doctor didn’t get an answer and just witnessed the rockers share a look.

 Nice girl. Drug issues not so bad. Be nice and maybe she´s nice to you. For Spencer all of that sounded like he would have to walk around on eggshells, while she would blast through walls like a wrecking ball. The manager, Philip, checked his watch and looked around.

 “So, where´s [y/n]? One more song and we´re done. Would be great not to hold up the investigation for too long.”

“She went to the toilet thirty minutes ago. We just ate our sandwiches. She said she wasn’t hungry.”, Leroy answered and at the same moment [y/n] walked in.

 Spencer looked at her and for a moment forgot how to breathe. Short, high waisted, leather skirt, low cut, tank top and biker boots, all black, rounded off with fishnet stockings.  [y/n] looked like she had climbed out of a teenagers wet dream. The perfect, little goth-girlfriend. She stretched a little and Philip looked at her.

 “Bonjour, Philly.”, she said with a sassy undertone, while walking up to him and leaning on his shoulder. He was the same high as her, which wasn’t really tall, about 5,4, if Spencer had to guess.

“Hey, where were you?”, the pudgy man asked her.

“Took a nap in my car.”, she booped his nose and gave him a sheepish little smile. Spencer knew she was high. In fact the whole room knew it.

“You drove here?”, Tom asked shocked and [y/n] grinned sarcastically.

“I guess so, else somebody explain to me why my car´s here.”, Phillip patted her shoulder, looking worried as she took four pills out of an orange pillbox from her bag. He gave her a glass of water and she swallowed them. The men from her band looked at her concerned, making her give them a pearly white smile.

“Headache.”, she explained and they only nodded. Spencer couldn’t help but think, that she wasn’t having a headache and even if she had, it was probably a withdrawal symptom.

“You know that I don’t want you to drive when you´re…”, her manager looked at the agents and stopped talking, making her look at them as well.

“What? Why´d you stop talking? That the fun police?”, she started giggling at her own joke, making the band chuckle, since she clearly didn’t know how accurate she was with her joke.

“That´s the FBI, Princess.”, Hank told her and she made a fake shocked face and then laughed again.

“Officer- No wait, agents, right? I swear I did nothing wrong. Weed´s legal in Cali.”

 The team shared some looks and Spencer couldn’t help but roll his eyes. [y/n] was not just on weed. Most definitely not just on weed.

 “They are here because of your stalker.”, Philip explained and she shrugged almost disappointed.

“Oh, that guy. Well, then hello. Nice to meet you. I´m [y/n].”

 She shook hands with JJ and Emily as they introduced themselves. Luke couldn’t help but breathe in sharply, as he shook her hand and almost choked on his own spit as an aftereffect. She started patting his back with wide opened eyes.

 “Shit, you okay? Asthma?”, [y/n] reached into her black, designer handbag and gave him a bottle with clear liquid. Luke took a sip, quickly grimaced his face and began coughing harder.

“Vodka.”, he stated through his coughing. [y/n] quickly took the bottle from him and took a sip too, without flinching. She then started cracking up at her mistake.

“Whoops. Mixed up the bottles, the other´s probably in my car. Philly, can you bring him…?”, Philip nodded and gave Luke a fresh water bottle from the mini fridge.

 Wow. Vodka hidden in a water bottle. Spencer licked his lips, taking in the view of her bandmates looking at each other. ‘Not that bad’ looked different. ‘Not that bad’ would not have her sleeping in her car, midday, with a bottle of ‘water’ and coming back high as a kite. Luke, by now, had stopped coughing and [y/n] stepped away from him again.

 “You good?”, she asked him, watching him wipe away his tears.

“Y-Yeah. Sorry.”, the black haired girl waved him off.

“Nah, don’t worry. I had asthma till I was twelve.”, he shook his head.

“I- I- No asthma. Just a really big fan.”, she started laughing again and although the light was dimmed, Reid could clearly see Luke´s cheeks turning red.

“Oh, that´s cute. But ‘Take My Breath Away’ is by Berlin.”, that sentence actually made the whole room laugh except for Spencer, who didn’t understand the reference. “What´s your name?”

“Luke Alvez.”, she shook his hand again, this time he didn’t almost choke.

“Well, nice to meet you, Luke. What´s your favorite song of ours?”

“25, no doubt. Really amazing. Like a James Bond song.”, the bandmates chuckled.

“We said that too.”, Leroy snickered, patting Luke´s shoulder and [y/n] nodded.

“It´s also my favorite. Excited to hear one of the new songs?”, Luke nodded excited and she turned her head to Spencer. “We both don’t know each other yet. Hi, I´m [y/n] and you are?”

 She sounded quite collected. Clearly high, but able to think straight if necessary. [y/n] must´ve been doing this for a while now, seeming to have figured out, how much she could handle while working. Spencer had been at that point too once. You wanted to do your work and be good at it, but needed to be high, to make it through the day. So you just tried over a period of time, bit by bit, how much you were able to take before doing a shitty job. ‘Not that bad’ didn’t make you figuring out a system to be high all the time.

 “Dr. Spencer Reid.”, he shook her hand.

“Dr. Reid will be your bodyguard, [y/n].”, Philip explained and quickly earned an angry look, as she let go of Spencer´s hand instantly.

“What? I don’t need a bodyguard, we talked about this.”, she hissed at her manager, but then started laughing after looking Spencer up and down. “And then that guy?”, Philip nodded as she rolled her eyes at him. ‘Do not take it personally’, Spencer told himself.

“I am more than capable of protecting you.”, he stated as friendly as possible, making her giggle.

“From what? A difficult math question?”

 [y/n] mocking tone started to piss him off, but as Spencer felt Emily´s look on him, he played it cool. After all, he had to proof himself able to handle her.

 “Your stalker.”, he corrected her and she licked her lips, pulling out a pack of cigarettes, looking at Luke.

“Since you don’t have asthma, would you mind if I…?”, Luke shook his head and she smiled. “Nice.”, she looked back at Spencer, at his gun. “Philip has a gun too.” “But Philip isn’t an FBI agent.”, Hank told her, making her shake her head in protest, like a little child.

“That´s ridiculous. And all of that just because a stranger sends me stuff, people send me stuff all the time.”

“You should be more worried about this guy.”, Leroy said and Tom nodded in agreement. “Yeah, what if he´s dangerous?”

“What´s the worst that could happen, like honestly, Doctor?”, she cocked her head at Spencer, looking up at him with an almost flirty smile.

“He could kill you.”, he gave back objectively, making the rockers obviously worried. “Geez. You make that sound like it´s a bad thing.”, she snickered and looked over to Luke. “Luke, wanna hear some music?”, he nodded.

“It would be an honor.”, his sentence made her giggle as she walked past him.

“You´re really cute.”

 [y/n] walked into the recording room, Tom, Leroy and Hank following her. She put on her headphones and lit a cigarette, putting the package on the little table next to her mic. Philip closed the door and started pushing some buttons on the sound mixer in front of him. JJ whistled impressed.

 “You do the technical stuff too?”, he nodded, chuckling.

“Since the stalking started, I try having as little people near [y/n] as possible. Thought it might just be a little crush from a weirdo and when he doesn’t get to see her, he gets over it.” “We need a list of the people that worked here though.”, Emily told him and he nodded.

“Of course.”, then he pushed a button and started talking into his microphone. “You guys, ready? Last song. ‘My Medicine’, then we can go home.”

 They all approved of his words and started to playing. [y/n] relighting her cigarette and clearing her throat. Spencer couldn’t tell if that was her simply not caring or doing it for the feeling of the song. However, it seemed to fit the style.

“Somebody mixed my medicine

Somebody mixed my medicine”

“I love this already.”, Luke whispered and JJ chuckled.

“You haven’t even heard anything yet.”, she snickered.

“Doesn’t matter, the feeling is there.”, he lifted his arms, showing her his goosebumps.

“Well you hurt where you sleep and you sleep where you lie

Now you're in deep and now you're gonna cry

Got a woman to your left

And a boy to your right

You start to sweat so

Hold me tight 'cause

Somebody mixed my medicine

I don't know what I'm on

Somebody mixed my medicine

Now baby it’s all gone

Somebody mixed my medicine

And somebody's in my head again

And somebody mixed my medicine again, again”

Spencer watched [y/n] starting to move to the rhythm, swaying her hips and tapping her left foot to the beat, then looked to Philip pressing some buttons.

 “She´s gonna be happy with that one.”, he whispered almost to himself and the next time Spencer looked at the band again, it almost felt like she was attentionally singing in his direction.

“Well I drink what you leak and I smoke what you sigh

See you cross the room with that look in your eye

Got a man to his left and a girl to his right

You start to sweat so

Hold me tight 'cause

Somebody mixed my medicine

I don't know what I'm on

Somebody mixed my medicine

Now baby it’s all gone

Somebody mixed my medicine

Somebody's in my head again

And somebody mixed my medicine again, again”

She started moving her head in a way that made her long black hair fall in her face, framing her features almost delicately. While Spencer starred and earned some grins from [y/n], he could hear Luke whisper with Emily, who actually seemed to like the music too.

“There's a tiger in the room and a baby in the closet”

The room laughed and Spencer looked confused, having JJ tell him, that it was a movie reference. Sometime he felt like an alien, having such simple references fly over his head. Star Trek or Book references would´ve been easier for him…although he still didn’t know what that ‘Twilight’ book was Penelope and JJ talked about a couple of times. Or that other book all the women had talked about in their break….what was it called, ‘Fifty Shades of Grey’? They had told him it was a romance novel, so he just assumed it was like ‘Pride and Prejudice’ by Jane Austen.

“Pour another drink mom I don't even want it

Then I turn around and think I see someone that looks like you”

Philip pressed some buttons again, [y/n] now harmonizing with herself.

“Well you hurt where you sleep and you sleep where you lie

Now you're in deep and now you're gonna cry

Got a woman to your left

And a boy to your right

You start to sweat so

Hold me tight 'cause

Somebody mixed my medicine

I don't know what I'm on

Somebody mixed my medicine

Now baby it’s all gone

Somebody mixed my medicine

Somebody's in my head again again

And somebody mixed my medicine

Again, again, again

Again, again, again

Again, again, again”

The music started to slow down again, just like [y/n] movements, making Luke whisper words in awe.

“Somebody mixed my medicine

Somebody mixed my medicine

Somebody mixed my medicine”

Philip and the team applauded as [y/n] took her headphones off and the men put their instruments away.

 “I´m happy with that.”, she said looking at Philip. “You, Philly?”

“Sounded great to me.”, he gave back, happy to answer.

“What about my new favorite fan. Luke?”, Luke quickly pushed Spencer aside to get to the microphone.

“Loved every second of it! Like- Amazing! Really!”, she giggled, throwing her head back and came through the door.

“What about my new guard dog?”, Spencer pointed at himself, not knowing if she was talking about him. “Of course you. So, what do you think, Doctor?”

“I- I don’t really know.”, she raised her eyebrows at his answer.

“Okay? Was it the drugs or just the music in general?”, he felt himself go pale. “Ah, okay. You´re prude, get it. I mean you already have that whole tutor-thing about you, so…Bach or Chopin?”

“Pardon?” “Which one? Or is it Mozart, or the deaf bitch, Beethoven?”, she grinned snarky.

 [y/n] had a mocking tone in her voice, making Spencer feel embarrassed and like he was in school again, when the other kids in high school were making fun of him for not being cool enough. But he was too old to be bullied by a little junkie, who thought she was better than him.

 “I´m surprised somebody like you would even know them.”, her smile vanished.

“Little bitch.”, she snapped at him, stepping closer as he cocked his eyebrows at her. Philip quickly walked between the two of them and smiled.

“So, what are we doing next? The albums done. Taken care of. [y/n] have you eaten something today? You wanna go out for dinner?”

“No, I haven’t and no, I don’t want to, when THAT is around.”, with ‘that’ she clearly meant Spencer.

“Now don’t be grumpy, Princess. You started it.”, Hank told her and she started to pout, shoulders relaxing.

“Wasn’t worth my time anyways.”, she murmured and Spencer felt himself getting proud. This was the first person, trying to bully him, he had stand a chance against.

“So, we´re gonna need you at the police station, if that´s okay?”, Emily asked Leroy, Hank and Tom, who nodded. “And Spencer, you should take [y/n] home and check out her house.” “Mansion.”, [y/n] corrected Emily. “I have a mansion. Worked too hard to have it being called a house.”, Emily only nodded, not letting herself get bothered by her words. Philip nodded, completely ignoring his clients snappiness too.

“I follow you in my car.”, he told Spencer. “[y/n] give Dr. Reid your keys, please.”, she shook her head indignant.

“No. That guy is not driving my car. I´ll drive.”, the whole band now started saying no.

“[y/n], you´re not driving.”, Tom ordered and Leroy nodded. “You´ll get an DUI so quick, it´s not even funny.”, Spencer lifted his hand, waiting for the key. “Oh, come on.”, she groaned, looking at her bandmates like her childish behavior would change their mind.

 A nice sound. An annoying person, not getting what they want. Almost as beautiful as her [y/e/c] eyes, that actually were rather bloodshot, when Spencer thought about it.

 “Should the police pull you over and see that you´re high, they´ll look through your car and I don’t think you want be taking in custody for drug possession, right?”, she handed him her keys and Spencer couldn’t help it and whispered “Thank you”, in the most mocking tone he was able to.

“Fucking cunt.”, she whispered back at him and he just chuckled.

“I´ve been called worse. So your little words don’t hurt me…sorry.”, she then grinned.

“Things like Spencer?”, [y/n] asked him, spitting his name like poison.

 Spencer took a deep breath and watched her go out the door, telling himself to not answer her.

 “Hey, kid.”, Spencer looked at Hank and he just lifted his thumb.

“You held yourself better than we thought you would.”, Leroy added, Emily looking at Spencer concerned.

“You sure you can handle her?”

 He nodded, walking out the door and to the elevator which doors [y/n] was holding open for him.

 “Hurry up, bitch boy! I wanna go home.”

 *****

 Of course the rich, spoiled brat drove an imported sportscar. When Spencer got in, he firstly had to push back the seat, not having enough room for his legs and then tried getting [y/n] to tell him where she lived.

 “Try google, smart ass.”, was her answer and he sighed.

 [y/n] then rolled down her window and grabbed a joint from her glove compartment. Spencer quickly leaned over and snatched it from her hand, making her whine as she tried getting it back.

 “You´re such a bitch. Give me-“, he interrupted her whining.

“No. First tell me you´re address.”, she sat back into her seat.

“Fine. I´ll lead you there.”, [y/n] said, making grabbing motions with her hand and he handed her the joint back. She lit it and smoked out of the window.

 Spencer knew he should have questioned why she gave up and let him win so easily. After ten minutes they weren’t at her mansion, they were at a McDonald´s.

 “You´re fucking kidding me, right?”, he snapped at her and she began to giggle.

“You´re kina hot when you´re angry.”, her flirty grin and the way she bit her lip made him furious, because it was hot.

“What is wrong with you?”, Spencer almost yelled and she leaned back and pointed somewhere. “I´m hungry. Drive-Through. Over there.”

“No.” “Come on. Don’t be a bitch, dog.”, she snickered, resting her feet on the dashboard.

 He looked at her, for a second thinking about simply getting out of the car and leaving, before he could hurt her. Maybe she was really too much for him to handle, the drugs were manageable, but it was her personality that drove him mad, yet he wasn’t someone to give up easily. Cars started to honk behind them.

 “You´re holding up the traffic. I just wanted something to eat.”, [y/n] said, now almost annoyed because she wasn’t getting what she wanted. Spencer took a deep breath.

“Okay.”, she looked at him confused.

“Okay?”, he nodded, pulling into the Drive-Through. He was above this. ‘Give her what she wants, so she´s at least quiet.’

“You win.”

 She started clapping and hugged him, smelling like marijuana and something he couldn’t quite make out. When they came up to the microphone box, [y/n] crawled over Spencer´s lap, forcing him to look and think respectfully. She ordering a bunch of stuff and then looked at him.

 “What do you want? I only have booze at home, so…”, he looked at her a little startled. Was she trying to be nice to him?

“You wanna buy me something?”, she nodded like this behavior was normal to her. “Sure.”

“Surprise me. I never eat fast food, I don’t know what´s good.”

 She nodded and then told the voice from the box to double her order. Sitting back into her seat, [y/n] took out a hundred dollar bill from her purse, handing it to Spencer. When they pulled up by the window, taking their things, the woman in the window nearly lost it when she saw the rockstar, starting to cry. [y/n] was really nice to her and asked her if she wanted to take a photo in the parking lot. Of course the woman said yes and after paying, where [y/n] had left almost fifty bucks as a tip, Spencer had to park and wait till they had made the photo and given an autograph.

 “Okay, now drive before it goes viral. I wanna eat that stuff before it gets cold.”, she told him, taking a sip of one of the milkshakes.

“That was nice.”, she shrugged and then told him her address, telling him she´d scream when they reached it.

 *****

 Lo and behold, no twenty minutes later they parked in front of [y/n] mansion, next to another, more run down car, belonging to Philip. The mansion would´ve made Rossi´s mansion cry. At least twice as big and the property was enormous. In contrast to [y/n], it was very light and minimalistic from the outside and the inside.

 “Most rooms are empty. Too big.”, she explained walking straight into the open living area, that had a large terrace with pool and a view over the Hollywood hills. She put the paper bags filled with food on the large kitchen island and sat on a barstool.

“You could sell it and buy a smaller one.”, [y/n] shrugged and took out a burger, starting to eat it.

“Philip says I´m gonna grow into it.”, she answered, mocking the tone of voice her manager had probably had.

 Spencer watched her type something on her phone and a minute later Philip came into the room.

 “Hey, where were you? I got worried.”, he asked them and [y/n] handed him a salad.

“It´s the one you always have.”, he smiled at her.

“Thank you. You´re so nice.”, she shrugged at his words, not really caring.

“Yours is in here too, dog.”, she now told spencer.

 Ah, yes. She was being bitchy again. Spencer had only waited for it to happen. He said nothing, but walked up to the white kitchen isle and took the bag she pointed at.

 “Milkshake, burger, fries. Fast food essentials.”, she stated, finishing her small cheeseburger and getting up to her fridge, taking out a beer. She held it to Spencer who declined and then to Philip who did the same. “Lame asses.”, she chuckled, opening it and standing at the counter, watching Spencer eat. “So you´re here for…?”

“Technically it would be the easiest for all of us, if I just stayed.”, she raised her brows.

“Staying like, in my house staying?”, he nodded and she shook her head. “No chance. I enjoy my solitude.”

“[y/n]. If it´s easier for the agent and better for you…”, she sighed, opening a drawer and taking out some pills, swallowing them with her beer. “Fucking hell. But don´t expect me to be considerate of you.”, the rockstar told him.

“Should you consume them with alcohol?”, Spencer asked, taking a bite of his burger and she shrugged.

“I´m going to sleep…you guys…do what you want, I don’t care…”

“Do you need me to do your laundry?”, Philip asked and [y/n] shrugged again, it seemed to be her favorite motion. As she walked down the hallways and Phillip yelled after her. “Don’t forget that you have a gig tonight, [y/n]!”

“THAT`S WHY I`M GOING TO SLEEP NOW, DUMB ASS! WAKE ME UP WHEN WE NEED TO GO!”, she yelled back, followed by the smashing of a door.

 “She´s a nice girl.”, Philip said in the middle of the silence, as Spencer took place on one of the barstools.

“Like a car crash.”, the man in his fifties chuckled.

“I know she´s difficult, but in here she´s good.”, he pointed at his heart. “She has suffered a lot of losses in her life.”

“Then, just as a random thought, you should get into therapy before she OD´s.”, Spencer answered sassy.

“I know what you mean. But as long as she doesn’t want help or overdoes it…she has a system.”, Spencer let his head fall back and groaned.

“You know about that fucking thing?” “You too?”, Philip asked back in surprise. “Profiler. Took me no longer than the nap in her car, to figure that out.”

 Yes, a small lie from Spencer, but it sounded better then: Oh yes, I was addicted to dilaudid once. I had a system too!

 “Tell me, how does that train wreck of a system work?”, Philip leaned back from his salad.

“Well, she takes her painkillers in the morning and smokes some cannabis to get out of bed. When we´re touring or she has to be at shootings, interviews or anything else that needs her to focus, she only smokes and takes the pills all day, alcohol in water bottles is a new one though.”, Spencer sighed and thought if he even wanted to know more.

“And when she´s alone or not busy?” “Then she does the harder stuff.” “Harder stuff like cocaine, LSD…?”, Philip nodded. “Nothing with needles though…she´s scared of them.”

“She will not always be, if she continues like that.” “I know. That´s why I do my best to keep her busy. She even has her own recording studio here, knows how to handle everything herself. I thought it might make her spend more time making music than getting high. I also go out with her a lot, to a point where my wife starts to get jealous.”, he laughed bittersweetly. “Have you ever been to Disney World, agent?”, Spencer shook his head. “I take [y/n] there once a week, because she likes it there. I spend more time with her there then with my own daughter.”, [y/n] was famous, no chance people wouldn’t notice her.

“Does she even get to do anything there?”

“Not often. She mostly meets her fans there, but she loves that a lot. She is really sweet to them too, they mean everything to her.”

 That was the first time Philip had said something that was true about [y/n]. She had, not once been mean to a fan. The complete opposite actually. She had been nice and thoughtful, going out of her way to make the woman at the Drive-Through happy and was nice to Luke.

 “I know she was a little mean to you today, but she also bought us food, seeing it as a matter of course. There are two sides to every person, like a coin.”, Like a coin, just that [y/n] sides flipped as quickly like one too. Philip sighed and got up from his barstool. “I´ll show you around a little, if you want to.”

 Spencer nodded, getting up, following the short man around the house.

 *****

 [y/n] had been right.

It was way too big and many of the rooms were empty. When Spencer asked Philip about the necessity of such a big mansion, he told him, that he had hoped to motivate [y/n] to have a family one day. But now the only rooms in use were her bedroom, one of the five guest bedrooms, which Spencer got to stay in, the open living area with kitchen and living room, the recording studio and a little library. The latter made Spencer a little jealous. In the middle of the room even stood a white piano with notes on it. [y/n] also had a lot of books, all dusty, because she never read anymore. He would´ve killed to have his own library…she probably didn’t even value what she had.

 When they returned into the living area, Philip gave Spencer some spare keys, beginning to clean up a little and putting the food in the fridge. [y/n] didn’t lie, when she said, she only had alcohol at home. JJ came over and brought Spencer his go bag, asking him how it was going. Of course he said he was doing great, but couldn’t help but rant to her about [y/n]´s behavior.

 “Well, she is an addict, Spence. You know how erratic some drugs can make you.”, he nodded.

“Yeah, but she really tries pushing me and then, one second to the other, she´s nice and polite. Have you talked to her bandmates?”, JJ laughed.

“Way too long. We had interviews with them and then Luke just couldn’t stop talking to them, he has also taken about a million pictures with them and facetimed Penelope so she could meet them too.”, Spencer chuckled.

“Sounds like they had a good time. Anything else happened? Found out something?”

“[y/n]´s mother was an addict and left the family when she was younger. When she found out her daughter was famous, she got back in touch with her, to borrow money. [y/n] didn’t care and even got her to live with her, in one of the guest bedrooms. She overdosed a few months ago, since then [y/n]´s addiction got worse.”, Spencer´s eyes got wide.

“She didn’t die in the guest bedroom though, right?”

 Just as JJ wanted to answer, [y/n] walked in. Philip walking behind her with a duffle bag.

 “She died in the bathroom and she didn’t overdose perse, she drowned after falling unconscious in the bathtub, while being high.”, she answered cold, seeming to have overheard their conversation. [y/n] grabbed a beer from the fridge and continued calmly while taking some colorful pills. “I found her. The bathroom that it happened in is always locked. Don´t worry.”, Philip fidgeted a little with his hands, looking for his keys.

“Uh-Uhm. Agents? We need to go. The concert…”

“You coming too?”, [y/n] asked, looking at JJ and she shrugged. “We could also invite the cute one…Luke. It´s about 20.000 people so two more won´t hurt…right Philly?”, Phillip nodded.

“You´re all invited. SSA Prentiss as well.”, he said and JJ smiled at them.

“Thank you. That´s very nice, but I´ll have to talk to them first.”, [y/n] shrugged at that and drank her beer.

“You have my number, just call when you know. We start half past eight.”, Philip then took the empty beer bottle from [y/n] and threw it away. “Show time.”

 *****

 Half an hour into the concert Luke had shown up, completely hyped.

 “What did I miss? We had some ex-staff members to talk to. Did they already play ‘Going to Hell’?”, Spencer nodded. “Argh, dammit. Doesn’t matter, that song´s amazing too.”

 During the whole concert Spencer watched [y/n]. The music wasn’t that bad, a little harsh, but it was mix of hard and alternative rock after all. At least that´s what Penelope said, when Luke started facetiming her. After the last costume change, Spencer pulled [y/n] aside. He asked her to not be so ‘touchy’ with her fans. Since she would kneel down and hold their hands. He tried telling her about the risks of having the unsub in the audience, but she only laughed.

 “I´ll be as touchy as I want, bitch.”, he started to frown.

“At least don’t stagedive. Luke says you always do that and the risk of the unsub use-“, she interrupted him, wanting to go on stage.

“Fuck off, dog.”, he held her arm, trying to reason with her.

“Can you ple-“, she tried pulling away, like an angry child.

“No.” “Stop being so fuck-“, [y/n] interrupted him again.

“Stop trying to fucking babysit me.”

“I just want to hel-“, she ripped her arm away. “Yeah, fuck you too.”, the rockstar answered, not letting him finish and walked back on stage.

 Philip walked up to Spencer, having seem the ordeal of him trying to talk to [y/n] and him now  driving the heel of his palm into his eyes. This girl gave him migraines.

 “What happened?”, Philip asked and Luke answered for Spencer.

“He told her not to stagedive.”, Philip laughed a little and shook his head.

“Oh yeah. Never tell her what to do. She hates that and then does it out of spite.”

“You don’t say?”, Spencer answered sarcastically.

 On stage [y/n] took her microphone, saying something to her bandmates and then smiling sweetly, while talking to her fans.

 “This next song is for my lovely new babysitter, who thinks he can tell me what to do.”, the crowd started booing and she laughed. “I know, I know. But it looks like he doesn’t know how things work around here…So I think we have to help him out a little.”

 The music started to play and Luke patted Spencer´s arm.

“She dedicates ‘Heaven Knows’ to you! Penny have you heard? She sings ‘Heaven Knows’ for Reid!”

“NO! SHUT UP!”, the blonde on the phone squeaked.

 He and Garcia started to freak out while Spencer watched [y/n] clapping her thigh and stomping to the beat.

“Jimmy's in the back with a pocket of high

If you listen close, you can hear him cry

Oh Lord, heaven knows, we belong way down below

Sing it!”

She lifted the mic to her audience she started to sing for her.

Oh Lord, heaven knows, we belong way down below, way down below, way down below

“Judy's in the front seat picking up trash

Livin' on the dole, gotta make that cash

Won't be pretty, won't be sweet

She's just sittin' here on her feet singin'

Oh, Lord, heaven knows, we belong way down below

Go!”

Again her fans obeyed her, Luke and Penelope freaking out next to Spencer. If it wouldn’t have been a moment, were he had to fear which move she had planned next to unnerve him, he might have even enjoyed this song and the involvement of her fans in it.

Oh Lord, heaven knows, we belong way down below

“Sing, oh Lord, tell us so, we belong way down below”

She now looked at him for a moment, while her audience sang. Before, again, walking around the stage, touching her fans hands.

Oh Lord, tell us so, we belong way down below

Way down below, way down below, way down below, way down below

“I've had better days, man, I've seen better days

I've had better ways, man, I know better ways

One, two, three and four, the devil's knocking at your door

Caught in the eye of a dead man's lie

Show your life with your head held high

Now you're on your knees with a head on low

Big man tells you where to go

Tell them it's good, tell 'em ok

Don't do a goddamn thing they say”

Spencer was surprised how well her fans knew her lyrics. She would just have to point at them or lift her mic and they would instantly sing were she stopped. Not missing a beat.

Oh Lord, heaven knows, we belong way down below

Oh Lord, tell us so, we belong way down below

Way down below, way down below, way down below, way down below

“I've seen better ways, and I know better ways

I've seen better days, man, I've got better days”

[y/n] now stood at the edge of the stage, back turned to her audience. She smiled directly at Spencer, fingers held like a gun to her head.

“Gina's in the back with a pocket of high

If you listen close you can hear the cryin'”

At the last word she mimicked shooting herself and let herself fall back into the crowd. Her fans got wild and continued her song, while Spencer certainly not in a long time, if ever, felt so much spite and frustration against a woman, other than Cat Adams.

Oh Lord, heaven knows, we belong way down below

Oh Lord, tell us so, we belong way down below

Singin' oh, Lord, heaven knows, we belong way down below

Oh, Lord, tell us so, we belong way down below

The crown placed [y/n] back on her stage, where she walked up to her bandmates again, waving at Spencer and Luke with the sweetest smile.

Way down below, way down below, way down below, way down below, way down below

Way down below, way down below, way down below, way down below, way down below

 *****

 After the concert and the encores she and the band got behind stage, where Spencer for the least thirty minutes had waited to give her a piece of his mind. As [y/n] giggled and walked up to him and Luke. He grabbed her arm, a little harsher than planned.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”, she blinked at his yelling, answering with her innocent eyes blinking and a mocking tone.

“What´s the prob, dog?”

“What´s- Do you really care so little for your own safety?”, Hank came up to them, having seen Spencer´s grip on the girls arm.

“Hey! What´s going on here? [y/n], are you okay?”, Spencer quickly let go of her.

“Yeah, the dog is just pissing himself because I stage dived.”, he quickly took a deep breath.

“I´m not pissing myself, [y/n], but I told you not to do it. What would you have done when your stalker would´ve been in the crowd and lost it? Nobody would´ve been able to get to you fast enough and help!”, Hank looked at her in disappointed shock.

“Is that true, [y/n]?”, the black haired girl ignored her friend and just continued arguing with Spencer.

“Well, maybe I don’t want anybody’s help!”, she hissed at Spencer.

“Then why are we even here?”, Spencer hissed back. “BECAUSE I BRING MONEY! Else the label would let me rot in a fucking corner! GOD! You are ruining my after-show-high. I hate you!”, [y/n] yelled and Spencer tried not to yell back, tried to be the bigger person, only hissing back at her.

“Oh, trust me. That feeling is mutual.”, she swallowed hard and then turned around, stomping away.

 *****

After half an hour waiting, Spencer got a call from Philip, telling him that [y/n] refused to see him again and would be sleeping at his house tonight. He told him, that he should just let himself into the mansion and eat what´s in the fridge. It wasn’t from use, to try talking to [y/n], when she was that angry. Tomorrow Philip would call him and bring her back into Spencer´s care.

Spencer did as told, Luke driving him to the mansion, telling him that it wasn’t his fault. He then got into the large, empty mansion and grabbed himself a well-deserved beer. Being alone in this big house was depressing. After his third beer he stopped, walking into his room.

He pulled his blue and gold sobriety token, he had gotten for being clean ten years, out of his bag. Thumb rubbing over the golden X in the middle of it. He actually had deserved a twelve year token by now, but since prison didn’t actively attended the meetings anymore, having grown past it. Yet, he still kept the tokens he had, close to him.

They reminded him of his achievement, reminded him to be proud at himself.

Spencer never wanted to fall back into the dark hole he was in, when he was addicted, and even when [y/n] would throw tantrum after childish tantrum, she wouldn’t cause him to relapse. He was stronger than this. Stronger than her.

To be continued...

.

Give me your feedback [also anonymous!]

.

.

Taglist (lmk if you want to be added/removed)

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #dr spencer reid #post prison spencer #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #spencer reid angst #angst #reid x you #spencer x y/n #criminal minds x y/n #spencer reid reader insert #spencer x reader #reader insert #spencer reid x you #rainincaliforniaff

[cherrycheolcoups]

Please please would you do a one shot that take place in season 3 episode 20. And the reader is jealous and hurt of hotch being close to Kaye Joyner and getting mad when he takes his side over Morgan's. They could already be in a relationship or not. if you would like. :) thank you

hey, anon! thanks for requesting! i wasn’t sure if you wanted it to be fem!reader, male!reader or gn!reader so i went ahead and chose gn!reader. i kind of got carried away and it became longer than i was intending, but i hope this is to your liking. enjoy! :)

pairing: aaron hotchner x gn!reader

You were at your desk doing some paperwork while trying to ignore Morgan when JJ had came and said there was a case. Getting up, you and the rest of the team made your way to the conference room where the team was usually debriefed of the case. However, as soon as everyone walked in, Hotch had said, “Don’t get comfortable. There’ll be time to debrief on the plane” without even turning around to look at anyone. Clearing your throat a little bit, you look to your boyfriend. “Where are we headed, exactly?” You asked, Hotch still having yet to turn around from the screen where a clip of the murder was playing. “New York,” he had simply answered.

Rossi then spoke up. “5 shootings in 2 weeks. It’s about time we got the call.” You see he finally turns around and looks at Rossi for a moment before looking to Emily when she asks a question. “What do we know?” “All the killings are mid-day. Single gunshot to the head with a .22,” Hotch had answered. “Any witnesses?” JJ pipes up and asks, her hands on her hips. Shaking his head a little bit, Hotch tells her no before looking to Reid when he starts to speak up. “.22-caliber pistol’s only 152 decibels. New York streets and subways are routinely well over 100. It could be people aren’t even registering the gunshot until the unsub’s already leaving the scene.”

You look to your right and listen to Morgan when he says, “They sound like mob hits.” Then, you look to your boyfriend when he responds. “Except none of them have ties to organized crime.” “Do they have any connection to each other?” Emily asked. “None they’ve found,” Aaron told her. “How about communication with the police? Has the unsub tried to make contact?” Morgan asked next. Aaron turns to look at the screen as he answers. “Surveillance cameras have captured video of 3 of the murders. This is the latest,” he says as he clicks a button on the remote and a video comes up on the screen. “That’s the best image they have?” JJ asks Hotch. “They’re all the same. He wears a hood and keeps his head down,” Aaron answers. Emily begins to speak. “This guy’s bold. Crowded areas, broad daylight.” Rossi furrows his brows a bit as he asks, “So they’re completely random?” “It seems that way,” Hotch says. You sigh softly and cross your arms over your chest. This whole thing just gives you a bad feeling.

“Son of Sam all over again,” Reid said. “Wheels up in 30,” you hear your boyfriend say as he then exits the room, probably to go back to his office and grab his go bag. You and the rest of the team all start to pile out of the room as well. Everyone returned to their desks to retrieve their go bags. Derek got hit and said he was going to get Garcia, to which everyone simply shrugged. After you got your go bag, it was time to board the jet. Once on the jet, you chose to sit next to Emily. Besides Aaron, she was the person you were closest with on the team. Though, to everyone else, Emily was the only person you were closest with. None of the others knew about you and Hotch. Well...except maybe for Rossi if the way he looks at you and Aaron sometimes is anything to go by.

You look to the entrance of the plane when you hear Garcia’s voice. “How come I only get to travel with you guys like once every 2 years?” Derek was the next one to talk. “Trust me, Mama. It can get old.” Garcia moved to sit one sit in front of JJ as she turned and set her bag in the chair behind her as she answered. “Oh, right. Like the way that spa treatments in 5-star hotels can get old,” she had said. Emily piped up while looking at Morgan. “Remember the time we got on board and they hadn’t chilled the cristal?” Morgan looked at Prentiss and answered. “Ooh. I almost quit the B.A.U. that day.” This encounter made you laugh some. It was nice when you guys got to joke around for a moment before remembering where you were. You notice Hotch looking at you from the corner of your eye, though you weren’t going to give in and return his stare. Rossi was sitting right in front of Aaron after all. 

Garcia stood and looked at Derek. “You know what? You guys can joke all you want ‘cause I am never leaving this plane.” This made you smile to hear how Garcia just loved the plane. You smiled at Emily when she nudged your shoulder with her own once she sat down. Turning back to look at Hotch, Rossi, and Reid, you turn serious once again. “The victims?” You hear Rossi ask as he sets the photos down on the table. “Each killed in a completely different neighborhood. Hell’s Kitchen, Murray Hill, Lower East Side, Chinatown, East Harlem,” Aaron told Rossi, though looking at all of the team. “It doesn’t make any sense,” Reid says with a shake of his head. “There’s no common victimology, no sexual component, no robbery, no geographical connection. Do the police have any leads?”

“He’s killing roughly every 2 days. The press is having a field day, and it sounds like the mood on the street’s getting pretty edgy,” Aaron spoke as he leaned forward a little bit. “It’s a joint FBI-NYPD taskforce?” Rossi asks. Aaron simply nods his head before answering. “Kate Joyner heads up the New York field office. She’s running point on the case and called me directly,” he says before looking past Rossi and to JJ. “JJ, would you tell them we’re ready to go?” “Right,” JJ says as she pulls her phone out of her pocket. “Kate’s starting to butt heads with the lead detectives and wanted a fresh set of eyes.”

“Joyner, I know her. She’s a Brit, right?” Morgan asked Hotch. “Well, dual citizenship. Her father’s British, her mother’s American. She was a big deal at Scotland Yard before coming to the Bureau.” “I heard she can be a little bit of  a pain in the ass,” Morgan says next. Aaron shakes his head a little bit while looking at Derek. “I didn’t think so.” Emily looked at Hotch. “You know her?” She had asked. At this point, you were a little confused and a little upset, but you couldn’t convey that since you were supposed to be doing a job and the team didn’t know about the two of you, either.

“We liaised when she was still at Scotland Yard,” Hotch told Prentiss. Rossi then asked, “And she’s good?” Hotch looked to Rossi. “I think we’re lucky to have her.” This didn’t sit right with you, but you chose to try and ignore it for now. It was in the past, if anything had happened with him and this Kate Joyner you guys would be seeing. You looked out the window and felt Emily nudge you again. “You okay, (Y/N)?” You nodded your head and gave her a smile. “Yeah, yeah I’m okay.”

A little while later, you guys were now piled into the elevator, going to the floor you needed to go to. Once it dinged and opened, everyone got out, Hotch taking the lead. You were standing with Garcia and JJ, and clenched your jaw when you heard what JJ asked the two of you. “Is it just me or does she look exactly like Haley?” You didn’t want to see it, but there was no denying that Kate Joyner looked like Haley, and that didn’t make you feel any better about hiding your relationship from the team. You watched the two interact. “Kate.” “Aaron. How have you been?” Oh, so on a first name basis? That was not what you had wanted to hear. 

You didn’t want to be jealous. You wanted to give Aaron the benefit of the doubt and come clean to you later if he so chose to do so, but you couldn’t fight the feeling itching under your skin. “Well, thank you. This is my team. Kate Joyner, this is David Rossi, Emily Prentiss, Jennifer Jareau, Penelope Garcia, Derek Morgan, Spencer Reid, and (Y/N) (Y/L/N),” Aaron tells her, pointing everyone out as he said their name. Kate nods. “Thanks for being here. Anything that you need, just tell me. Please don’t stand on protocol,” at this point her voice was just starting to grate your nerves, especially when she was talking to your boyfriend. 

“What can you tell us about the city’s surveillance system?” Garcia had asked. “Um, it’s run by the NYPD. It’s still in the infant stages. It’s been rather controversial. American privacy laws. Um, but they’ve had some success,” Kate had told her. “And I’ll have complete access?” Garcia asked. “They’re already expecting you. Shelley?” During that entire time, you noticed how Aaron hadn’t taken his eyes off Kate. You tried to ignore it, but the thought stayed. Garcia pushed past to go. “I’d like to get a map of the borough. I want to do a comprehensive geographical profile of the area in order to ascertain the unsub’s mental ma before it’s clouded by our own linkage blindness,” you hear Reid say as two detectives walk up and stand next to him. The shorter one remarked, “I see you brought your own computer.” You didn’t like him already. “Detectives Brustin and Cooper. I’ll let you do the introductions,” Kate spoke. 

“You caught the first shooting?” Rossi had asked. “They’ve all been in different precincts. It wasn’t until the third murder that anyone even made the connection,” Detective Cooper had told him. “I guess this is where we play nice and ask you what you need,” Detective Brustin told the team. You really didn’t like this guy and his attitude. Kate let out a little bit of a laugh while she spoke. “I’ll let you all figure out what that is. I just ask that you run everything back through me. It’s been my experience that having one butt on the line is enough,” she says, looking at Detective Brustin who looked away and said, “Yes, Ma’am.” The next thing you saw really made you mad, and at this point there was probably steam coming from your ears. 

You watched as Kate stepped closer to your boyfriend and ask to “have a word with him in private.” “Sure,” was your boyfriend’s response. You crossed your arms over your chest and furrowed your brows. Emily and JJ shared a look with each other. You notice Rossi was looking at you from the corner of your eye. Sometimes, Rossi just knew too much. You watched as Aaron and Kate walked into her office. You didn’t like how close they were standing to each other. It just made your blood boil. “Woah, sweetness. What’s got you all red?” You hear Morgan ask you, to which you sighed and bit your lip, trying to decide if you should just come clean. 

“I...I probably shouldn’t say it here where all these officers could hear, but um...Aaron and I are...seeing each other. And have for some time now,” you told them quietly, making sure no one else was in ear shot. “So that would explain everything, then,” you hear Emily say as she then walked over to you and placed a comforting hand on your arm. “You trust Hotch, right?” She quietly asked you. At this, you gave her a confused look but nodded your head. “Yeah, of course. I trust him with my life.” “Then, okay. There should be nothing to worry about, (Y/N),” she told you. You sighed and nodded your head. “You’re right, Em. I’m sorry,” you apologized while shaking your head. 

A little while later, you were at the next crime scene with Kate, Derek, Detective Cooper, Detective Brustin, and Aaron. During that time, there seemed to be some tension between Kate and Morgan, and you didn’t like how she talked to him. You watch and listen as Morgan looks to Aaron. “You mind telling me why I’m catching attitude from her?” Aaron hesitates for a moment before he answers. “FBI brass has made it clear to her that if she doesn’t bring this case home, she’s gonna be reassigned, and you are at the top of the list to replace her,” your boyfriend explains to Derek.

Derek looks at him. “You’re kidding me.” “Why should you be surprised? You’re good at your job. People notice that,” Aaron told him. Derek turns away for a moment before turning back to Hotch. “What happened to the bureau patting itself on the back for stealing her away from Scotland Yard?” Aaron shrugs a little while shaking his head. “I don’t know. Politics here are different. And you can see she doesn’t pull punches,” Aaron said as he then walked away from the two of you. You and Morgan share a look before sighing and walking away as well. You really didn’t like how your boyfriend was sticking up for Kate the way he was.

After you guys find out there’s more than one unsub, you look at Kate when she asked if there was enough for a working profile. “Broad strokes,” was Rossi’s reply. “Dave, you and Reid talk to the agents here. Morgan, Prentiss and (Y/L/N), brief the police when each shift comes on duty tomorrow,” at Aaron’s demand, you nod your head. Morgan looks at Hotch. “I think we should get out on the streets,” was Derek’s reply. That was when Kate decided to speak to him. “I brought you here to create a profile,” she told him. “Which we can give in the morning, and then they can share it with the afternoon shift,” Derek told her. You really didn’t like how Kate Joyner was talking to Derek. 

“We’ve allocated every extra man we have. This is New York City. It’s not like a few more people is going to blanket the city,” came Kate’s reply. “I understand it’s a long shot, but these guys, they hit at mid-day. We could target Ingress and Egress to particular neighborhoods. Position us near express stops- 14th, 42nd, 59th-” Morgan was saying, but got interrupted by Aaron. “Morgan, it’s not your call,” your boyfriend told Derek with a shake of his head. You rolled your eyes and walked off, not liking how he just took Kate’s side and not Derek’s. 

After being done at the office, you guys went to the hotel. You laughed some at a joke Emily made as you guys walked in, Aaron holding the door for everyone. You guys made your way to the lobby before stopping when Reid motioned for JJ to look behind her. You, Aaron, Emily, and JJ turn around and spot Will. This made you smile. You were always rooting for them. Walking over, you guys look between Will and JJ. Will looks at Aaron and returns his handshake. “Detective,” Aaron had said to him. 

“I’m sorry for showing up like this. I know you’re working. But, um...I can’t stand you being on this case and me not being here, not with what’s going on,” Will told JJ. This made you a little confused. ‘With what’s going on?’ You asked yourself. Aaron tilted his head a little as he looked at Will. “Is there a problem?” He asked. JJ slightly scoffs before turning around to look at the rest of you. “I’m pregnant,” she says. This brought a smile to your face as you pulled her in for a hug, missing the look in Aaron’s eyes as he watches. “We’re so happy for you guys,” you told her, to which she had hugged back and thanked you.

Then you pulled away, still smiling after hearing the news. “I’ve asked JJ to marry me,” you hear Will say. “Will,” JJ had turned around and scolded. “We’re still working out some kinks,” he told the group. Aaron nodded. “We’ll, uh, give you both some privacy.” And with that, your boyfriend had started to walk away until JJ stopped him. “Hotch.” He turned around and looked at her. “JJ, you could have told me,” he said to her, a small smile on his face. “I know,” was JJ’s response. 

You, Aaron, Spencer, and Emily leave the two of them alone and retire to your rooms. You were debating on stopping at Aaron’s, but decided against it. Instead, you went towards Emily’s room, softly rapping your knuckles against the door. A few seconds later, Prentiss opens the door and ushers you into the room. “Hey, (Y/N). Not talking to Hotch now?” She teased. You smiled some and shrugged. “Eh. I was going to...but I’m not sure what to say without getting upset over the whole Kate thing. I don’t want to dump that on him right now. Not while we’re working a case.”

“That’s understandable. But you do know you have to talk about it with him eventually, right?” Emily pressed, looking at you. You sighed and nodded your head. “Yeah...I know.” A little while later, after having a few too many drinks with Emily, your addled brain supplied you with going to Aaron’s room. You hesitated at the door for a moment before knocking. Better now than never, you figured. Almost immediately, the door had opened, as if he were impatiently awaiting your presence. 

“(Y/N)...are you alright?” Your boyfriend asked you, concern and worry etched into his features as he gently pulled you in, shutting the door behind the both of you. “Yeah. I just spent a little time with Emily, not to worry over,” you assured him, sitting down on the edge of the bed. “Nothing to worry over? You’re drunk,” Aaron had told her. “Yeah, well...it’s what I needed after today,” you told him. With this information, he studies you for a moment. “What are you talking about?” He asked, confused about what happened to cause you to drink this much. 

“You and Kate. I don’t like it. Plus...the team ended up finding out about us,” you said, yawning some as you kicked off your shoes and laid down on the bed. “That’s what this is about? Kate? You’re not jealous are you?” Aaron asked. At your silence, he scoffed, shaking his head. “Unbelievable. You have no reason to be jealous. Nothing’s ever happened between Kate and I and nothing ever will,” he told you. For now, in your current state, it out you at ease.

The next day, you guys were listening to Garcia as she explained that the unsub was getting away. You were beyond frustrated, and so was Morgan. “We could’ve had that guy,” Derek said. Kate spoke next. “Even if we were on that platform, odds are he would have moved on to someone isolated.” At this point, Morgan started raising his voice a little. “Maybe, but it was worth taking a shot.” Kate and Derek looked at each other. “We had every available man on the street,” Kate told him.

Morgan got a little closer to the desk. “And I suggested to you that you use this team,” he had told her. Aaron looked at Derek. “Second-guessing doesn’t do us any good right now,” Aaron told him. “Hotch, how am I supposed to look these cops in the eye and tell them that we’re actually here to help them?” Morgan asked him. “We’re here to present a profile. That’s what we need to do.” Aaron was all too calm about this, you thought. 

“I said to put us at express stops, 14th, 42nd, 59th, and that’s exactly where they hit,” Morgan pushed. “It’s not your place to have this discussion,” Aaron told him. At this, you pursed your lips and watched them. “My place?” Derek asked. “You need to back off,” came your boyfriend’s reply. “We got 7 bodies, man.”

“Which is exactly why we need to stay focused,” Aaron told him sternly. “Focused.” Derek got closer to Hotch. “From where I’m standing, all your focus is on her,” you heard him say, which didn’t surprise you that he would bring this up. “Talk a walk. Now,” Aaron told him. You and Rossi looked at each other. You really didn’t like the tension in the air and quickly walked away, ignoring your boyfriend calling your name. You couldn’t deal with him right now.

You only made it to the door when Aaron had caught your arm, stopping you from going any further. “Let go, Aaron,” you said through gritted teeth, trying your best to not show any other emotion. Really, all you wanted to do was go home and scream and cry into a pillow or something. “(Y/N). Talk to me. You never storm off like that.” “Yeah? Well, my boyfriend also never adamantly takes someone’s side like that,” you spat, shrugging his hand off and leaving the office, getting into one of the SUVs and driving back to the hotel. 

Sometime later, Aaron found himself knocking on the door of your hotel room. “(Y/N). Please open the door. Let’s talk about this. Please...” you hear your boyfriend ask. You sigh and let him in, going back and sitting on the bed while having your arms crossed over your chest. “I know you’re upset with me right now. I know that this might take some time before it passes. I just want you to know that I do love you. And that I truly am sorry for you feeling this way. But please understand we’re not here to over step. Simply to give a profile. This is the NYPD’s investigation. And Kate happens to be the lead. Trust me when I say, nothing is going on between Kate and I. I only want you. Okay?” Aaron spoke softly, his hands encasing yours in his own, his eyes peering into yours the way he always does. 

After thinking about it for a moment, you sigh and close your eyes, the tears finally escaping your eyes as you hug Aaron tightly, burying your face in his neck. Aaron closed his eyes and engulfed you in a hug, pressing a kiss to your temple. “It’s all going to be okay, baby. I’m here,” he whispered into your ear. You eventually nodded and calmed down some, pulling away from him as you wiped your eyes. “I-I’m sorry...” you told him. Aaron gently cupped your face in his big hands, his thumbs stroking your cheekbones. “You have nothing to be sorry about. Truly,” he said, pressing a kiss to your forehead before you took it a step further and pressed your lips to his, just wanting to be surrounded with nothing but him again.

okay so this was way, way longer than i was intending for it to be but i wanted to get some of the dialogue plots from the episode between morgan, kate, and hotch to give that drama that was there between them. but i do hope that you enjoyed and that it was something similar at least to what you were picturing! and thanks again for requesting! :)

[kasienda]

The Five Minute Adventures of Snake Noir: Ch 3 - Best Laid Plans

Chapter 1: I Want It To Be You

Chapter 2: Best Friends

Chapter 3: Best Laid Plans

Chat Noir was wearing the snake miraculous this evening as he always did now, but he hadn’t activated it. Tonight, he needed Alya to remember he had been there. He landed on the balcony of Alya’s bedroom and peered into the room cautiously. He had never actually been here before, and wanted to confirm he was in the right place. 

Sure enough, Alya was sitting at a computer across the room. 

He tapped on the glass. She looked up, and her amber eyes widened when they landed on him. He waved. She got up immediately, and slipped through the sliding glass door. 

“Sorry to drop in on you like this,” Chat said.

She smiled warmly. “To what do I owe the pleasure, Chat Noir?”

He couldn’t help the hand that went to the back of his neck. “Well, this might seem like it’s out of nowhere, but I was… kinda worried about Nino?”

Her eyes popped out of her head. Whatever she had been expecting, that had not been it. “What? Why?”

Read on Ao3

“Well, Hawkmoth has impersonated him twice now. Once as actual Nino and another as Bubbler. It seems like Nino has become a target. I just… if it was me, I would worry about my friends and family mistaking an imposter for me. And I would want to protect them.”

If anything, Alya’s eyes grew larger. “I don’t know if Nino was the target,” she whispered. “I think Hawkmoth is using him to get to me.”

Chat frowned. “Why would Hawkmoth be targeting you?”

“I… uh… I think he thinks I have a special connection with Ladybug… you know, because of the Ladyblog.”

Chat Noir nodded. “I suppose that makes sense.” 

She sighed and leaned against the railing next to him. 

“So what do we do?”

He stared out into the skyline. “I was thinking it would be fairly easy actually. You and him just need to set up some kind of call and response code. Something that only you and he know. You could tell him to do something similar with all the people he’s close to. And maybe you could do the same with people in your life… if you’re worried.” 

She nodded. “That sounds good.” And then she considered him for a moment. “Why did you come to me instead of going to him directly?”

He tensed at the question. He had been rather hoping she wouldn’t ask that. Honestly, he could have mentioned it to him as Adrien, but he felt that Adrien had less reason to notice something was up with Nino, and Adrien didn’t exactly have the background to be thinking about threats constantly. His father hired people for that. And Alya and Nino - they were just super close - and seemed to communicate well. He just thought Nino would be more receptive if the idea came from his girlfriend. But it’s not like he could explain all that. 

But maybe, he could explain some of it. 

“Well… uh… I don’t know him?” he lied.  “But I do sort’ve know you. And I’m sure he would take it better coming from someone he knows and cares about rather than a random superhero.”

She scoffed. “You’re hardly some random superhero, Chat Noir.” 

“Nice to know I have a fan,” he purred, waggling his eyebrows playfully. 

She shoved him back with an eyeroll and he grinned. “Stop,” she scolded. “You know I have a boyfriend.”

He smoothed out his face and gave her a genuine smile. “You are both very lucky to have each other.” 

She smiled. “I definitely think so. Thank you, Chat Noir. I appreciate you looking after my boyfriend this way.”

He gave her a two-fingered salute. “Of course! Just doing my job.” He was about to leave, but then he hesitated. “Do you have a pen and paper?” he asked. 

“Uh… sure. Give me a second.” She slipped inside and returned with his requested items. 

“If you run into any issues that need my attention, this is my username on the Ladyblog. You can DM me.”

She blinked at him, at the offered paper stupidly. “Oh my god!! You’re on my blog?!”

He grinned cheekily. “Of course! I am Ladybug’s biggest fan after all. And you seem to have the best scoops in that regard. I don’t know how you do it! Sometimes, it seems like you know her better than I do.”

She burst out laughing. “Well, a girl can’t give away all her secrets, now can she?” 

He smiled again. “I suppose not,” he said. “Thank you, Alya.”

“No, thank you, Chat Noir.” She stepped forward and he stepped easily into the offered embrace. He squeezed her tightly.

“For what?” He pulled away. 

She smiled sincerely. “For everything you do.” 

He blushed at the praise. “Like I said. All in a day’s work. See you around, Ladyblogger!” 

“See you, Chat Noir!” 

And he launched himself back into the sky. 

… 

He should have gone back home. It’s what he had planned on. He had a history exam coming up next week that he wasn’t entirely prepared for, but he was already so close by, he couldn’t help, but want to check in on Nino. He would set the time loop, check in on how Nino was doing, reset it, and head home without Nino ever knowing he was there.

He landed in a crouch in Nino’s bedroom.

His friend was sitting on his bed, swiping through his phone. His golden eyes snapped towards Snake Noir the second he had landed. His eyes narrowed. He did not so much as crack a smile. 

Something was wrong. 

“Is there an akuma?” Nino bit out, his voice hard and unwelcoming. 

Adrien shook his head. “No,” he said, and then frowned. “Dude, are you okay?” 

“What do you want?” Nino demanded, ignoring his question entirely.

Snake Noir took a step backwards. “Nino?”

“I think you should leave,” Nino said, and turned his gaze away from his unexpected guest. 

But Adrien didn’t want to leave. Not when Nino was so clearly upset. “Nino, it’s me. Adrien.” 

Adrien expected Nino to soften and pull him into a hug like he had every time Adrien had revealed himself, or at least explain why the hell he was so upset. But that’s not what happened. 

Nino eyes shot back towards him, wide with shock. “W-what?!” He took in a shaky breath. “Dude! How could you do this to me?!” Nino was screaming now. He had bolted to his feet. 

Adrien took another step back, raising his hands in surrender. “Nino! What are you talking about?” 

“Like you don’t know!” Nino snarled. 

“I don’t know!” Adrien insisted. 

“I think you should leave.” 

“What?! Nino! Please! Can we talk about whatever this is?” Adrien begged. 

“No! I don’t think we can.”  

“Second chance,” Adrien mumbled to himself, and he was outside Nino’s window. He glanced at Nino’s slumped form sitting on the bed for just a second before vaulting upwards to the roof of the building. 

He sat down on the tiled roof. What the hell had happened? Why did Nino hate him now? What had he done? Adrien’s hands were shaking even transformed. Nino was his rock, and now he felt adrift without that support. 

He lost the transformation and pulled out his phone, and immediately dialed his best friend. It wasn’t Adrien he was mad at - at least, not until he knew Adrien and Chat Noir were the same person. But why the hell would Nino be angry with Chat Noir? 

Nino immediately answered.  

“Hey dude,” Nino greeted, his voice sullen. 

“Nino, what’s wrong?” 

Nino sighed. “I think Alya is cheating on me.” 

“What?” The idea didn’t even compute, it was just too incomprehensible. 

“With Chat Noir.”

“What?!” Adrien said again, more in shock. 

“Dude, I don’t know what to do!” 

And Adrien could hear Nino’s pain. He had to fix this. It was clearly a misunderstanding.

“I’m here,” Adrien told him. “Now, explain this to me from the beginning. Why do you think Alya is cheating on with you? And with Chat Noir?” 

“She’s… been off for awhile now. I don’t know what’s going on, and I didn’t want to pry. She usually will tell me things when she’s ready. But she started missing a bunch of our dates, and her reasons… they don’t sound… right.” 

“What does that mean?” 

“It means… I think she’s lying.” 

“Could there be any other explanation?” 

“For the avoiding me and making weird excuses? Probably! But I saw her earlier today with Chat Noir.”

“Okay, did you see them kissing or something?” Adrien asked. He knew there hadn’t been anything to see. He had maybe flirted a tiny bit, but even then she had only rolled her eyes and chastised him. 

“Nothing like that, really. But she was laughing. She was so at ease, open, and lively. And I… I haven’t seen her like that in… weeks.”

“Nino…” Adrien trailed off, uncertain what to say. “I don’t claim to know what’s going on with Alya, or why she’s been distant. But she wouldn’t do this to you.” 

And neither would Chat Noir. 

“You didn’t see them together!” Nino shouted, and Adrien had to pull the phone away from his face. “I know what I saw!” 

Adrien’s phone buzzed. And he opens it to reveal a picture of Alya and Chat Noir in a hug. 

“Nino, this…” how did he explain this wasn’t what it looked like? “There’s no way Alya would cheat on you. Not even with a superhero.” 

Nino dissolved into tears. “I just don’t know anymore. She’s hiding something. And I don’t want to pry, but my mind just keeps going in these spirals and I don’t now how to get it to stop. I just can’t… help but wonder if she doesn’t love me anymore. And she’s always loved the heroes. It would be difficult to compete with a guy like that.”

“Nino, what are you talking about?!” Adrien asked, wanting to point out that Nino was a hero, too. “You’re a fantastic catch!”

“Sure, but he’s Chat Noir! Have you seen his butt in leather? And he’s funny! And… charming! And who even knows how many times he’s saved Paris!”

Adrien was grateful this wasn’t a video call, but he could still feel the heat from his cheeks to his ears. 

“He flirts with everyone!” Nino continued.

Adrien stiffened. He didn’t flirt with everyone. But he had flirted a tiny bit with Alya earlier, but he hadn’t meant anything by it. He was just being friendly. 

“He could totally steal away someone’s girlfriend!”

Whether or not that was true (and Adrien had his doubts), Adrien knew he would never do that. 

“Or even someone’s boyfriend!”

Seriously?! 

“Does Alya need to be worried about you coming on to Chat Noir?” Adrien interjected.

“What?! No! I would definitely put him in his place! I love Alya so much!”

“And she would do the same!” Adrien insisted.

Nino didn’t say anything. And a few seconds later, he realized Nino was crying. His visit to Alya had made Nino cry. He had only been trying to help. He had to fix this. 

“Nino, I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I didn’t mean…” he trailed off sadly. He couldn’t truly say what he wanted to. Not without revealing himself. Which… he probably would have if Nino wasn’t so pissed specifically at Chat Noir.

“You don’t understand,” Nino sobbed. “Chat is not just some superhero to us.”

“He’s not?” Adrien asked cautiously. He really hoped this wasn’t going where he suspected it was going. 

“Alya and I know him.”

“He has saved you both more than once,” Adrien said. Please, take the excuse. Please take the excuse. 

“No!” 

Adrien could hear Nino pulling his own hair out in frustration.

“That’s not what I mean,” Nino said. “Dude, can I tell you something? I’m not supposed to, but I’m going to lose it! I don’t know who else to talk to about any of this!”

Adrien squeezed his eyes shut. It didn’t really matter if Nino told him what he already knew, was it? But he knew Ladybug might feel differently about it. 

Of course, he didn’t have to say anything to Ladybug. What was more thing he couldn’t talk about? 

“You can trust me, Nino,” Adrien assured. 

“Alya and I are superheroes, too.” 

“You and Alya?” Adrien repeated, covering his face with the palm of his hand. How did he not see this coming?! Ladybug was going to kill him. 

“She’s Rena Rouge. And I’m Carapace.”

Which made so much sense it wasn’t even funny. He was so close to losing it to hysterical laughter anyway. 

Seriously, was everyone he knew a superhero? Who was next? His father?

“Please say something,” Nino begged and Adrien shook himself out of his thoughts. 

“Wow,” Adrien said. “You’re a superhero! What’s that like?”

“Dude! I can’t even explain it. It’s exhilarating, and terrifying, and I don’t know how, out of everyone in all of Paris, Ladybug chose me to help her.”

Adrien smiled. Yeah, that was a pretty amazing feeling - the only fond memory he had as his time as Aspik. 

“I mean, Alya showed me some footage of Anansi. You were pretty badass even without a miraculous. It doesn’t surprise me that Ladybug would recognize that.” 

“Thanks, dude. That means a lot. I just… I don’t want to be mad at Chat Noir. He’s my friend.” 

Adrien found himself tearing up. 

“Or he was,” Nino added on. And Adrien sighed.  

“Nino, this isn’t really about Chat Noir. This is about your relationship with Alya. Do you trust her?” 

“I don’t want to be mad at Alya even more than I don’t want to be mad at Chat Noir.” 

“Have you talked to her about any of this?”

“Have you talked to her about any of this?” 

“No,” Nino admitted. 

“I’m telling you, Alya loves you. She wouldn’t do this. Not even a superhero who she happens to work with or be friends with. You’re her hero.”

“You really think so?” 

Adrien snorted. “Yeah man, I really do. Will you please go talk to her before you make assumptions.” 

“I don’t know where to start,” Nino said. 

Adrien thought for a second. “You could probably start with what you told me. Tell her that you feel like she’s been avoiding you. See what she says.”

Nino laughed. “You don’t think I should start with accusations?”

“I mean…” Adrien hedged. He wasn’t going to lie. He was definitely scared of Alya. Just a little bit. “I wouldn’t?” 

Nino laughed. He actually laughed, and Adrien breathed a sigh of relief. “Alright dude. Thanks for talking me off the cliff. I’ll call her now, and see if we can meet up.”

The call ended and Adrien stood up, hoping that Nino’s conversation with Alya went well. He knew that hug had been her thanking him. Surely, she would explain and everything would be fine. 

He transformed and ran across rooftops anyway. He wouldn’t be able to stand it if Nino hated half of his identity. He wouldn’t be able to visit anymore, even with the snake. 

 Adrien had to have faith in Alya. It would be okay. 

… 

Nino knocked on the door. Etta answered. Or maybe it was Ella. Honestly, Nino hasn’t learned to tell them apart yet, and today, it wasn’t his highest priority. 

“Alya! Your nerdy boyfriend is here!” 

“Hey! Be nice!” Alya chastised her younger sister. And then she pushed her back into the room as she came out on the patio, closing the door behind her.

The beaming smile she offered him went a long way toward soothing his tortured feelings. Adrien was probably right, but there was still an inkling if doubt that he couldn’t quite quash. He managed a weak smile back. She deserved more. 

“Nino! I was just about to call you!”

“You were?” 

“You won’t believe who paid me a visit earlier today?!” She told him, her voice literally oozed with excitement. 

“Chat Noir?” he guessed, unable to keep the hurt out of his voice. 

Her eyebrows furrowed together. “How’d you know?” 

He pulled out his phone, and flipped to the picture. “I was on my way to visit you.” He squeezed his shoulder, trying to reassure himself.

She took the device from him eagerly, her smile only widening. “This is such a good shot! I’m so happy you caught it!”

“You are?” And he might have sounded a little accusatory. He was trying to clamp down on it, and not start with accusations like Adrien said. 

She glanced at him, startled. And for the first time, she seemed to sense something was off. “Nino? What’s wrong?”

“Okay, so this might seem ridiculous, but what does Chat Noir mean to you?”

Her eyes narrowed for a second, and then went wife as she rapidly connected dots. “Oh my god! Are you serious right now?! You think that I would do that to you?” Her eyes had returned to hard narrow slits; she was pissed! 

But for the first time in his life, Nino was thrilled that she was furious with him. Her anger put to rest all her fears. “I’m sorry,” he said. “It’s just you’ve been so… distracted lately. And you’ve bailed on several of our dates and it feels like when I ask you dodge the question.”

She softened. And he barreled forward. 

“I didn’t know what to think! I was actually coming over to talk to you about it when I saw you so... umm... friendly with Chat Noir. And I just… I haven’t seen you that open and happy in awhile. So I can’t help but wonder if I’ve done something wrong?” 

He was wringing his hands. He didn’t even realize how much he was hurting himself until she took both his hands in hers and rubbed soothing circles with her thumbs onto the back of his hands.

“You’ve done nothing wrong,” she murmured, her eyes staring straight at him. “I’m sorry. I have been distracted, but it wasn’t anything to do with us. It’s just a bunch of Marinette stuff. And… she didn’t want me to talk about it with anyone, and it’s all driving me crazy, so I just… am having a hard time being completely there the rest of the time.” 

“But… you looked so happy when… Chat Noir was there.” 

“Nino! He’s a superhero! And I run a superhero themed blog! I get a little fan girly, it’s true.”

She pulled him into a hug. And he melted into her arms. 

“The truth is,” she murmured into his ear, “I feel like I don’t have to pretend around you. I didn’t mean to push you away or out. I was feeling overwhelmed and crazy and around you, I thought I could just be low and it would still be okay.”

His arms tightened around her. His eyes were burning with threatened years. “I’m sorry I doubted you. Doubted us. I want to be able to be a place where you can be less than one hundred percent and still feel loved and supported. I’m sorry I didn’t live up to that.” And he was horrified that his voice cracked on his last word. 

She pulled away just a bit, and pressed her forehead to his. “I didn’t tell you that to make you feel guilty. I told you that because I love you. And next time I’m feeling detached, I will try to tell you so you don’t have to worry or wonder.”

He leaned forward and kissed her, letting the last of his hurt roll off his shoulders. “I love you so much.”

She smiled, and kissed him again. “I love you, too.” 

They hugged, and Nino just let himself stay wrapped up in her familiar embrace. 

At least until she pulled away with furrowed eyebrows. “Chat Noir was here like… hours ago. I only didn’t call you immediately because I had to watch the twins. Have you been stewing in this that whole time?” 

Heat bloomed across his face, and he wanted to duck his head behind his hat, but this was Alya. He didn’t want to hide from her. “Yeah… I was really upset,” he admitted. “I assumed the worst, and kinda wanted to track down Chat Noir and start a fight!” 

“Nino!”

He held up his hands. “I know. I know. But Adrien called me at like the perfect time, and he kinda talked me down. He was insistent that you loved me and that you would never cheat on me.” 

“I’ll have to thank him,” she said, smiling. 

“You and me both,” he said. Then started fidgeting with the brim of his hat. “So… ummm… am I out of line if I ask what you and Chat Noir were talking about?”

“I was going to tell you anyway! Before you freaked out on me! But yes, if you must know, we were talking about you!” 

Nino blinked for a minute. “What? Me?” 

“He was worried about you.” 

His eyebrows scrunched together. Chat Noir was worried about him? And here Nino had been thinking the worst of the superhero. “But why?” 

Alya reached out for his hand, and their fingers were quickly threaded together. “He was worried at how much Hawkmoth has been targeting you, that he has been impersonating you. He thought that maybe it might happen again, and he was worried about how it might be affecting you mentally.. He suggested I get you to come up with some call and response passwords with the people in your life, so you could protect yourself and your loved ones.”

Nino’s eyes could not get wider. “Really?” How had he completely misjudged the whole situation that badly. Chat Noir wasn’t trying to steal his girl at all - the hero was trying to look out for him and her by extension. Instead, the hero was like, reading his mind, and coming up with ways for Nino to address his fears head on.  

“Really,” Alya said.

“Why did he go to you instead of me?” he asked. He felt so sheepish and embarrassed, and a tad bit guilty.

She shrugged. “Honestly, I think it’s just because he knew where I lived.” 

Nino laughed, and pulled her to him once again. His head rested on her shoulder. “Tell me that you love me.” 

“I love you,” she said, her tone smiling even if he couldn’t see her face.  

“How much?” 

“More than a superhero.” 

He grinned. “That should be our call and response code.”

She rolled her eyes. “If it makes you feel better.”

“But only if I ask you to tell me you love me, or vice versa. We don’t want other people to overhear it.” 

She nodded sagely in agreement. “Sounds good.” 

“I’m sorry I was an idiot.” “You’re my idiot.” 

And she lifted his head, and then she was kissing him. 

He smiled against her lips, his hands snaking around her waist. 

He really was a lucky guy.

…

Chat Noir sat across on a rooftop across the street from Nino’s empty bedroom. His legs were kicking back and forth in a way that would have seemed playful to anyone that didn’t know him well, but actually was a sign of how anxious he felt. 

He breathed in a deep sigh of relief when Nino returned to the room with a huge grin plastered on his face. As soon as Nino had closed his bedroom door, Chat launched himself across the street and into the room, landing with his trademark thud. 

Nino looked up at him in surprise. “Ch-Chat Noir! Uh… hey!” 

“Hi Nino,” Adrien said, his voice subdued. 

It was silent, and Adrien didn’t know what he was waiting for. He had come here with the intention of clearing the air. He hadn’t even transformed with the snake. He wanted to come clean. He spun the ring around his finger. This would be it. Nino was going to know who he was, and he wouldn’t be able to take it back. And he didn’t even know why he was nervous. He had told Nino dozens of times at this point, and his reaction had always been rock solid. 

Well, except for the last time. 

Maybe that was the problem. 

“So… uh… Alya, didn’t seem to think you knew where I lived. I’ll have to tell her that she was mistaken,” Nino said. 

Adrien nodded. “I may have led her to that conclusion. If it’s all the same to you, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t rat me out.”

Nino frowned. “Is there a reason you don’t want her to know?” 

“There is actually, but I can’t explain it yet. Maybe later?” 

“You’re being awfully cryptic tonight, dude.” 

Chat rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, I’m just a bit nervous.” 

Nino stared at him, his eyes blinking in shock. “You’re nervous? Why?!” 

“You seemed pretty pissed at me earlier today.” 

Nino frowned. “How do you even know about that?” 

Chat’s gaze dropped again. “I may have cheated?”

“Huh?” 

“I’m wearing the snake miraculous.” 

“That’s the one that creates a time loop?” 

Chat Noir nodded. 

Nino eyed him up and down. “You don’t look any different than normal.”

“I haven’t activated it yet, but I’ve been using it to, well, cope, I guess would be the best word.” Chat Noir trailed off.

“Cope? Cope with being a superhero?” Nino guessed. 

“Yeah, it allows me to confide in someone without anyone remembering. And honestly, you’ve been really supportive the last few weeks. You have no idea.” 

Nino’s brows furrowed in confusion. “What? But I don’t…” 

“Remember? Yeah, I know you don’t. That’s what I’m saying.”

“But you’re not transformed now, so that means I’m going to remember this conversation.” 

Chat nodded.

“So, what’s different about today that I get to remember?” 

“I just… the last visit made me realize that I wanted you to know this was happening. I want you to remember giving me permission to do this.” 

“I’ve given you permission to do this before?” 

Chat nodded again. “I realize the why might not make sense to you, but you did.”

“Why me?” 

Chat Noir looked up with a small smile. “What? Don’t think you’re good enough?” 

“That’s not what I meant! It’s not everyday that you learn that you are the secret confidant of one of Paris’s superheroes and don’t even know it!” 

“Because you’re definitely good enough! You saved me from being akumatized like I don’t know how many times.” 

Nino frowned. “We’re not like having a secret affair or something are we?” 

Chat laughed. “Umm… no, but you know, I’m beginning to think you have a crush on me.” 

Nino blushed. “It’s a celebrity crush!” he defended. “Leave me alone! I didn’t know that we knew each other outside of akumas that well.” 

“Well, I’d like to explain everything to you if that’s okay. Clear the air so to speak.”

“On a timer? Or without?” 

Chat took in a deep breath. “You choose.”

“What do you want?” 

“I really want you to remember this time, but it might be dangerous.”

“Dude! As you totally already know, I’m already a target of Hawkmoth.” 

“Which is probably a reason I shouldn’t let you remember this. Which is part of the reason you let me erase your memory over and over again.” 

Nino frowned. “How often have we uh… done this?” 

Chat Noir winced. “Ummm… I don’t know?” 

“Shit dude. That’s…” Nino looked away. “Answer one question for me without giving away the thing you’re worried about?”

“Anything.” 

“Why did I agree to it the first time?” 

Adrien thought about it for a moment. What could he say? 

“You saw me have a breakdown where I was likely to be akumatized. I needed to talk to someone, but it wasn’t safe for me to talk about any of it without literally risking the world. You told me not to leave this room until I was okay.”

“And would you be risking the world by telling me now?”

Chat gripped the back of his neck. “Ummm… I don’t think so?”

“Dude! That’s not reassuring.”

Chat’s claws tore through his hair. “Yeah… you’re right. We can do it the other way. I’ll transform and set the timer, and explain everything. Then with context, you can make an informed decision about whether you want to remember or not. But either way, now you’ll at least remember that this is something that happens on the regular. You won’t bite my head off or assume that I’m trying to steal your girl when I’m talking to her.” 

“Thank you for that by the way.” Nino’s voice is small. And embarrassed. 

“For what?” 

“Talking to my girl? Apparently you were worried about me?”

“Yeah…”

“I’m sorry,” Nino said. “For assuming the worst.” 

Chat Noir shook his head. “It’s fine.” He wasn’t sure if it was, but he understood now why Nino had reacted the way he had. “I’m used to far worse.” 

“That doesn’t make me feel better, dude,” Nino told him, his eyes staring at him with a concern that Adrien was far too familiar with.

He pasted on a bright smile. “Well, let’s get this show going, yeah?”

“Sure,” Nino said, taking a seat on the edge of his bed. “What do I need to do?” 

Chat grinned. “Don’t worry about it, man. I got it covered. Sass, Plagg, unify!”

Nino put a hand over his eyes to block out the light. “Woah, dude. That’s quite the light show.” 

Snake Noir laughed. “Second chance.” 

“Alright mec, lay it on me,” Nino said. 

Snake Noir took in a deep breath, and then looked right at Nino. “I’m Adrien.” 

Nino paled. “What?”

“I’m Adrien,” he said again.

Nino’s eyes were as wide as the Seine. “Dude! You came here earlier when I was pissed at Chat Noir?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Please tell me I didn’t hit you,” Nino said, his eyes never leaving Adrien’s masked face.  

Adrien frowned. “You didn’t hit me. Were you worried that you might’ve?” 

“With where my head was at? I definitely wanted to punch you. Chat Noir, you, I mean.” Nino cringed. “I guess… that’s not much better.” 

Adrien tried to smile, but didn’t pull it off. “Your… umm… hostility toward me was a bit of a shock,” Adrien conceded. 

Nino snorted. 

“I just… I think I had gotten used to your… easy acceptance. I realize that I took it for granted.” 

“Dude! Stop! I was definitely in the wrong this time. And I’m sorry.” 

Adrien smiled. “It was just a misunderstanding.” 

“This is how you knew to call me?” 

Adrien nodded.

“I’m so sorry! I never meant to lay into you about… well, you! I just kept thinking about things being off with Alya, and obsessing over how I was supposed to compete with a superhero.”

Snake Noir bumped Nino’s shoulder. “But Nino, you are a superhero, too.” And then his head hung. “And we all have doubts.” 

“Dude, are you okay?” 

“Not really,” he admitted. “The whole reason Ladybug gave me the snake was so that I could confide in her, but I haven’t really done that. I keep using it to talk to you.” 

“Why can’t you talk to Ladybug.” 

“I can! And I can’t. So much of what I want to say is about her and that just makes it awkward. And every time I tell her who I am she starts crying.” 

Nino’s brow furrowed. “She has better not be disappointed!”

Chat shook his head. “No! I don’t think so. I think she’s sad that she has to forget.” 

“Why exactly does she have to forget?” Nino asked. 

“Us knowing each other’s identities apparently led to the end of the world.” It was getting easier to say.  

Nino starred at him flatly. “What. What do you mean, end of the world?” 

Chat threw his hands up in frustration. “I don’t know! I didn’t see it. She did! But apparently, I was akumatized and had the power of unlimited destruction, and blew up not just the earth, but the moon as well!” 

And yeah, maybe it was getting easier to say, but Adrien was shaking in agitation. 

Nino considered him for several seconds before finding his voice. “Dude. That is… heavy.” 

Snake Noir slumped down on the floor. “You’re telling me.” 

“I’m glad you’ve been able to come here,” Nino finally said. “I cannot imagine going through this alone.”

“I don’t know how I can ever thank you,” Adrien admitted. 

Nino pulled him into a sideways hug. “You don’t have to. That’s what friends are for.” 

“Little did I know, you taking pity on me for having Chloé as my only friend was one of the luckiest days of my life.” 

“Ha! I’m glad you have more options now.” 

Adrien smiled. “So, what do you say? Is this something you want to remember?” 

Nino nodded. “If you want me to know, I want to know.” 

“Even if it puts you in more danger?” 

“Dude! Do you think it’s possible for me to be in more danger at this point?” 

“Nino, I destroyed the world. Not Hawkmoth.” 

Nino frowned. “Now, that’s where you’re wrong. You said you were akumatized. That’s all on Hawkmoth.” 

“I doubt Hawkmoth’s goal was to destroy the world,” Adrien said softly. 

“Which just means, you must have broken from his control or something.” 

“To destroy the world?” Adrien asked sarcastically. 

Nino placed a hand on either of Adrien’s shoulders. “Dude, look at me.” 

Adrien looked up. 

“I’m not going to lie. Seeing you transformed as Snake whatever with Adrien’s brooding face is majorly trippy.” 

Adrien laughed. “Sass, scales rest. Plagg, claws in.” And in a burst of light, he was just Adrien sitting on his best friend’s bed. 

“You were saying?” Adrien prompted when Nino continued to just stare at him in shock. 

Nino seemed to shake himself lose. “Right! I’m saying this once and I will say it as many times as you need to hear it. You don’t really know what happened in that timeline. Like you said, you didn’t see it. And, you haven’t destroyed the world. Just look outside, you can see it!” 

Adrien opened his mouth to argue, but Nino silenced him with a waggling finger. “No, dude! I know what you’re thinking, but I know you. You would never destroy the world if you were in control of yourself. You are too good. Too pure for this world. And you’re fucking Chat Noir! You literally throw yourself into death’s jaws like every week to protect everyone. I will not let you feel guilty for all of time for something you haven’t even done.” 

Adrien watched Nino through his monologue, unable to help the smile that stretched across his face. “Are you done?” 

“That depends. Are you still beating yourself up?” 

Adrien smirked. “I’m feeling better at the moment actually, but I don’t promise I never will again.”

“Well, you just have to promise to come back whenever you’re feeling that way.” 

Adrien offered an open hand at chest level, and Nino clapped his own hand into it, and they pulled each other into a hug. “Deal, as long as you promise to talk to your girlfriend whenever you’re having doubts.” 

“What? I can’t talk to you about my girlfriend?” 

“I mean, you can! You can talk to me about anything.” 

“Oh my god! You’re Chat Noir!” 

“Uh, yeah?” 

“And I’m Carapace.” 

“Yeah, you gave that away in like my second loop.”

“We can literally talk about anything,” Nino concluded. 

Adrien smiled again. “I guess we can now. I hope you don’t come to regret that.” 

“Dude!” Nino squealed. “This is going to be so cool!” 

…

Chapter 4: A Thank You

#Adrino friendship #DJWiFi #Miraculous Ladybug Fan fic #Adrien Agreste #Nino Lahiffe #Alya Cesaire #angst #friendship #make up #hurt comfort #there's actually no time loop in this one #snake miraculous #The Five Minute Adventures of Snake Noir #Identity Reveal #A Miraculous Reveal #ml spoilers #ml s4 #My Own Content

[0risha]

THE FIRST MONTH

» CHAPTER SUMMARY : As an aspiring author in New York, life hasn’t been the easiest. To your surprise, things start to look brighter when you're met with an unexpected offer.

» TAGS : a few curse words, mentions of insecurity

⤻ series m.list  | series playlist | ⤻ the next month

“Take as much time as you need,” Draena drawls. Your brows furrow as you note that she was, indeed, being sarcastic. 

“A-are you gaslighting me,” you scoff over the line. You wait to hear a bubble of laughter from your editor/best friend but it never comes.

“Shut it.” You gulp as her tone turns hard. “What you turned in last night.” You shut your eyes in hopes of drowning out her next line. 

“Was complete shit.” 

“Gosh, you’re so rude.” You turn in your seat, propping up your glasses as your attention moves from your computer screen to your slumbering cat. “What happened to my happy, enthusiastic Rae rae?” you boast, clutching the phone closer to your ear. 

“Well, this so-called final draft made my mood go sour.” 

“Fuck, Rae- I’m trying here.” You coax, internally wincing when you catch the crawling desperation in your voice. Draena must’ve heard it too.

“I know you are babe but when you send me videos of you dancing with Yuka while Erykah Badu’s singing her heart out in the background—” her voice cuts off when you let out a snicker. 

“It’s not funny Y/N!” Draena proclaims but you hear the low laugh she lets out. “Okay, but when you send me videos of that it makes me think otherwise.” 

You hum in feigned contemplation. “But you know…. those are like my interim periods.”

“I’m hanging up on you.”

“Wait, no! Rae rae please- I was kidding,” you plead, frantically.

“Give me a better draft by the 12th an—"

“Rae rae!” Your cat turns to you, telepathically telling you to shut up with her green, narrowed eyes.

“And have a goodnight Y/N, I love you.” 

Beep.

You heave out a sigh. “She definitely doesn’t love me,” you confess to the air. “Yuka baby,” you sing, patting your lap; a signal for her to jump on.

“But you do…. I just know you do.” You coo, rubbing the scruff of Yuka’s white-haired neck as she curls into you.

“Yuka…. why does the world hate me so much?” You take your pair of glasses from your face and throw them on your desk. 

“And my head hurts…..” you whine. “And m’ so hungry.” 

You hear Yuka purr in agreement.

“Ugh, Yuka, back home they had such good ramen.” You sigh wistfully, turning to glare at the microwaveable ramen cup that sat in your trash.

“I miss it.” You divert your gaze from the trash to your office window to watch a trail of rain pellets zig-zag across the glass. Dark, heavy clouds farther up in the background. 

New York’s current weather didn’t help with your somber mood. 

“M’ gonna take you there one day, I promise.” You sniffle, unwanted emotions welling up in your chest. 

“You know who I want you to meet!” You raise an index finger idly in the air. “Want you to meet my brother, he loves cats. Have I told you that, Yuka?” Your mood instantly flips as you remember your older sibling. Though, it drops just the same when you get no response. It wasn’t like you were gonna get one anyway. 

With the piercing silence in your apartment, your mind starts to wander to forbidden thoughts. To straggly blonde hair, dark amber e—

“No!” Yuka jerks up when you do. “I’m not doing this tonight.” You push up from your chair, Yuka mewling in rejection. “Sorry, baby, come cuddle with me in bed.” You take one last guilty glance at your computer before walking to your bedroom. Groaning when your body hits your not so soft mattress. You pat the sheets for signs of Yuka’s body but to no avail. With a roll to the side of your bed, you see her glued to the floor. “You’re so spoiled,” you grunt, taking her in your arms and plopping her next to you. 

“Goodnight Yuka.” You get a nuzzle in response. 

When your eyes close and the rest of the world fades, you end up dreaming of him.

Well, it’s not just him. It’s more of an uncatchable blur of moments together. 

Your entry at the local girl’s volleyball workshop that you had eventually begged your mother to quit because you were terrible at it. 

The teasing words he would throw at you because of your non-ability to even set a ball. How his brother would force him to apologize after seeing the tears that stained your brown, pudgy cheeks.

Unsurprisingly, Aran was too caught up in his little world to even care but they were glee-full memories, nonetheless. 

Although, as if your subconscious was in tune with your wants, your dreams didn’t stray too far, cutting right off before that summer. 

The next morning, you’re pulled out of your sleep by Yuka’s insistent scratching against your chest.

“Damn it, Yuka, don’t scratch my nipple off,” you grunt. When you open your eyes, you’re forced to squint due to the harshness of the sun that filters through your bedroom blinds. 

With a sigh, you roll over to grab your phone, groaning when the bright light hits your sensitive eyes. You didn’t have any texts from Draena, which made you happy and sad at the same time. Usually, if Draena sent texts, they were pleas for a new draft or implied words of motivation that were sometimes laced with venom; the absence of emoticons always a telltale sign. 

However, Draena was the only person that bothered to text you, so it did brighten your day a teensy bit when she did. Aran didn’t text, at all, and if you didn’t know better you would think that he physically couldn’t, but he just took joy in speaking on the phone.

“She’s really mad at me huh, Yuka.” You throw your phone on the pile of sheets when you rise from your bed. Body craning to relieve itself when you elongate it to an upwards stretch. Yuka does the same, her white tail thumping on the wood-like tile floor. 

“Don’t have anything to do today,” you whisper, rubbing your eyes as you drag your body to your cramped bathroom. 

When you reach for your toothbrush, you glance at your reflection in the mirror. A simple glance turns into a long, attentive stare as you try to mentally pick and prod at your appearance. You blink, silently shocked that you weren’t falling into an ether of insecurities. 

While furiously brushing your teeth, careful to avoid harsh circles on your sensitive gums, you stare vacantly at your mirrored face. As if observing for long enough would finally uprise the emotions you had grown accustomed to. 

Droopy eyes, too full lips, not the prettiest nose. 

But they never came.

And as uncanny as it sounded, you didn’t like it. You didn’t like the unfamiliarity of losing such a dear friend. One, that you had carried by your side for years on end.

After placing your toothbrush back in its rightful place, you swished a small amount of evergreen mouthwash in your mouth, letting out a wince after following it down with a swish of cold water. 

You turn to leave, but not before glancing once more at your mirror.

It’d be back soon, it had to.

After feeding Yuka a reasonable amount of catnip and changing her litter box, you plop down on your couch (which was to your dismay, missing a few springs), grab your remote, and flip to a random channel. 

After a couple of minutes into a series about fire emergencies, you found it hard to concentrate, the colors that were supposed to solidify into suitable entertainment only blurred by. You squint, but the effect only works for a second. 

Things were so bad that you couldn’t even watch television?

Though, you weren’t sure what exactly these things were. Yeah, living in this place wasn’t exactly ideal but you were gonna make it big in due time. The heavy-paged outline you’d sent in last month had been placed on the top of the Greatest Upcoming list by your publishing company. 

Perhaps, that was the case; the heavy expectations that had been placed on your already frail shoulders, albeit, you knew exactly what you were signing up for when you’d hit the submit button. You couldn’t help but think that your conflicted emotions were for an entirely different reason. 

It was frustrating not knowing what was going on with yourself. The little things that were supposed to make you happy; eating snacks, listening to your mother’s voicemails, playing with Yuka, all felt like a toll. 

However, this train of thought introduced a new one. 

A rush of impelling air flits through your apartment, before it could find the means to disappear you clamber up to your office. Well, it was more a corner of your apartment that could fit a desk than an office, but it was enough. 

Grabbing your glasses from the desk drawer and placing them right on the bridge of your nose, your fingers fly. They’re set in rhythm, thoughts that fly to your fingertips and transfer. It goes on like this for nearly two hours, your eyes burn and your joints ache but something tells you that if you were to stop now, a feeling like this wouldn’t be so easy to attain again. Rare moments like these felt like euphoria. But it always came with a price; a hook of fear that settled in your skin. The fear of writing something that wasn’t up to par. 

To your utmost dismay, your writing is interrupted by the ringing of your phone, and just like that your impel disappears. With an annoyance-filled groan, you grab the source of the noise. 

Draena.

“What! Rae rae... I can’t believe you, I had the best feeling of motivation, and my fucking fingers wer—”

“Come. Now.” Your eyebrows shoot up as Draena cuts off your impending rant, her voice low and demanding.

“Huh- to NPC, why?” Going to your publishing company was a rare occurrence, you basically worked from home. 

“Urgent news.” Draena clips.

“Why the short answers? Just tell me…” your voice trails off. As much as you hated to admit, you were terrified. What if they booted up your deadline? Or worse… 

“No, they’re not kicking you off the list because of your terrible drafts.” You release a long breath in relief. 

“So what is it?” You gnawed the bottom of your lip in trepidation. 

“You’ll see.” The line cuts.

You roll your eyes. Draena hanging up on you was starting to become an annoying habit.

With a glance at your computer screen, your eyes widen in shock. 

68,000 words.

A new record.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Everyone knew about New York, the melting pot of all types of people, food, festivities, and yadda yadda. 

But no one seemed to know how dampening it was. To you at least. 

The difference between being in one of the most active places in the states and having nothing going for you was very...depressing. Though the thoughts of impending success snuck into your gloomy thoughts, it was driven away by impatience. 

When? When were you going to finally catch a break? When were you going to be shrouded by contentment and feel as though moving to the states was the right choice? 

These thoughts compiled onto your mind as you stared at the back of a stranger’s brown and very ugly loafers.

The metro was loud and bustling with life. Though, it didn’t hold much surprise. 

You made sure to keep your head downcast and avoid eye contact with anybody. You were lucky enough to get a seat on the train, but the regret finally started to set in when you felt another person pushing against the left of you. 

With an inaudible sigh, you close your eyes in hopes of getting a few moments of peace before you had to go to your publishing company. Draena did tell you that it wasn’t a serious matter but a gut feeling told you that it was. 

When your stop comes, you squeeze through a plethora of bodies to get out of the doors. 

The walk to your publishing company is short, your gray sweatpants and sweatshirt made it an easier trek. With your heart in your throat, you elongate your neck to stare at the company. It was nothing special, a five-storied building that looked slightly crappy on the inside. However, it was seemingly special to you. It’d housed dozens of authors esteemed with the title of best-seller and you’d be damned if you weren’t one. 

After giving yourself a speech of confidence, you enter the building. The first thing that hits you is the overbearing stench of coffee. The sweet smell of donuts, next. Which leaves you to salivate due to the absence of breakfast. 

“You can have mine if you want to.” A figure towers over yours. Michael. Your eyes flit to his face, then to the donut, he offers on a folded napkin. Your nose scrunches up in distaste. A cruller.

When you see the way his face slightly falls, you smile at him. “Thank you, Michael. I’ll make sure to eat this since I didn’t have any breakfast this morning.” As you grab the donut from his hand and your fingers brush ever so slightly, you catch the way his cheeks flush red. 

Now, you weren’t an egotistical fool but there was no way that Michael didn’t have a thing for you. But there was no way you were going to entertain him. Yeah, he was cute; short-cropped black hair, sharp cheekbones, and nice jade eyes to go with it, he wasn’t your type. It didn’t help that he was only eighteen, four years your junior. The gap wasn’t huge but it just… wasn’t your thing. 

“H-have a nice day.” He chokes out, a nervous smile adorning his pasty cheeks. 

“I will, thanks again.” With a small smile, you turn away to trudge up the stairwell. 

The stairs are rickety and downright scary. Every step you take causes a flash of childish vision in which you end up falling through. The quality of the rails didn’t help either. Renovations, maybe?

You’re pulled from your thoughts as you finally make your way through to the fifth floor. Surprisingly, this floor was tidier than the rest. More expensive printers, offices, and equipment in general. 

“Finally.” Draena cruises towards you, her expression is neutral, conveying no signs of what’s about to come. 

“Hi Rae rae,” you smile, handing her your cruller. “You look nice.” You observe her pencil skirt that fits just right on her curves, and her white button-up that makes her chest look really, really nice.

“Stop ogling my tits, you perv.” You roll your eyes at her crude language as she stuffs her face with the donut. “You look….” She ducks her head to study your attire. “Comfortable.” 

“Putting your rudeness aside.” You wave your arms. “Uh… what am I here for?” You scratch the back of your neck as a source of relief. 

Sensing your nervousness, Draena places her hands on your shoulders. “Everything’s fine, I promise. Just follow me.” She turns.

You blink out of your stupor to follow behind. Your eyes stay downcast. “Stop looking at my ass—”

Your eyes widen in shock as everyone turns to give you a perturbed stare. “W-what! Draena— I was not.” You scramble up to stand side by side with your friend, sending her an icy glare.

She gives you a low chuckle in response. “I know, I know. Just tryna get you to lighten up.” She pats your mass of curls. “Well, I hope ya did, cause we’re here.” She stops in front of the main conference room. 

She pulls your sweaty hands into her own. “You got this! Just don’t say too much because you don’t nee—”

“Huh- you’re not coming with me!” you whisper-yell, eyes moving sporadically in disbelief.

“Nope!” She springs, letting go of your hand and turning you towards the door. “Good luck, babes, call me when you’re done, I can’t wait to see your reaction.” And with that, Draena pushes a very terrified you into the conference room. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Uh, Miya!” Atsumu turns to the loud reporter. “Any ladies in your life?” 

“Nah and yer crazy if you think there’s gonna be.” He gives an upturning grin as the conference room bursts into a muttering mess.

Next to him, Sakusa grunts, “you’re so damn arrogant.” Atsumu gives him a shrug in return.

“So, any past ladies you’re still willing to pine over?” Atsumu blinks once, twice. The room falls into an eerie silence as his teammates turn to peer at him. 

“Nah,” he clips. “Let’s talk about the game now.” Atsumu coughs. “We should be talking about Mr. Shoyo here, no?” The orange-haired boy flushes in embarrassment as the attention of the room shifts to him. 

When the team heads back to the locker room, the air is filled with exhaustion. The adrenaline finally slithering away as they grab their belongings. 

Meian, their team captain clambers up to Atsumu’s figure and clasps him on the shoulder. “What was that about, Miya?” 

Slowly, Atsumu turns to give him a confused look. “What was what about?” He lies, slinging his bag on his other shoulder. His eyes flicker across the locker room as everyone tries, but fails miserably, to hide their interest in the conversation. 

“Whatever, I know you’re not gonna tell me,” Meian sighs, already used to the boy's nonchalant façade.

With a huff and a series of goodbyes, Atsumu slides out of the locker room and pulls the hood of his jacket on his head. He fishes his phone out of his pocket, thumbs ready to send a pleading text to his Osamu. 

When he does, he sighs wistfully. Silently hoping that his brother would give him at least a dozen of onigiris of his choice, for free. When his phone ringer goes off, he immediately slides accept. A wide smile on his face as he speaks to what he thinks is his brother.

“Sumu! If you’re calling to ask, I’d really like some with grilled salm-”

“Nah, It’s not Osamu.” Atsumu comes to a stop in the MSBY parking lot. 

“A-aran?” His dark amber eyes go wide. It’d been so long, but there was no he’d forget his best friend’s voice. 

“Yeah.” Though his voice is much deeper and gruff, a sense of nostalgia washes over Atsumu.

“What’d you call for? We haven’t talk-”

As Aran’s next words filter through Atsumu's right ear, the setter’s spine grows rigid. A plethora of thoughts enter his mind to merge into a red, blaring question mark. 

“Y/N’s coming back to Japan.”

a/n: yayy, i know this is kinda short and should probably be a prologue instead of chapter one but.... idk. also, i’m really excited to dive more into atsumu’s character. okay, okay other than that. I hope you enjoyed this! I feel as though the header is downright ugly but whatevs ┐( ˘_˘)┌

#atsumu x reader #haikyuu x reader #atsumu angst #atsumu fluff #atsumu x you #haikyuu angst #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x you #atsumu x black reader #atsumu x poc reader